


Dean's Babysitting Hell

by afaithfulwriter890



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baby Sam, Babysitting, Big Brother Lucifer, Big Brother Michael, Brother Feels, Brotherly Love, Crowley Being an Asshole, Cute Castiel, Cute Crowley, Cutesy, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel Being Gabriel, Good Gadreel, Lucifer Being a Dick, M/M, Metatron Being a Dick, Michael Being A Dick, Naked Gabriel, Paranoid Crowley, Protective Dean Winchester, Road Trips, Toddler Gabriel, babysitter!Dean, toddler cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 12:50:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 20,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2270400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afaithfulwriter890/pseuds/afaithfulwriter890
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The King of Hell has plans for Dean - babysitting plans, that is. When Crowley turns Sam, Cas, and Gabriel into little kids, Dean is the only one left to babysit. Now five-year-old Gabriel gets into trouble everywhere he goes, and is constantly butting heads with the hunter. Three-year-old Cas is constantly at Dean's side, pining for attention. And baby Sammy constantly cries, unable to speak or get around on his own. Can Dean survive this predicament and find a way to turn them back?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The King of Hell

            It was a normal afternoon in the bunker. Dean was sitting on the couch, flipping through the latest issue of _Busty Asian Beauties_. Castiel was in the shower, and Dean was struggling to keep his mind off his friend, who had recently become a bit more than that. Of course, no one knew – it was a secret that both of them guarded with their lives. Since the Enochian symbols had been engraved into Dean’s ribs, preventing other angels from finding him, they were also unaware of his . . . feelings for the angel. He knew that Sam probably suspected – his brother knew Dean better than the older Winchester liked to admit. He also suspected that Gabriel had his own suspicions. Ever since the archangel had started hanging around Sam so much, he had been a royal pain in Dean’s ass. It was almost as if he could see through Dean’s carefully molded mask that usually protected him from such accusations. His only leverage was that he was pretty sure that Gabriel had a thing for Sam. If Gabriel told anyone what he suspected about Dean and Castiel, Dean would reveal what he thought about him and his little brother.

            The only other person that might suspect anything was Crowley.

            And that just pissed Dean off.

            At least he trusted Sam enough to keep it to himself, and he knew that Gabriel wouldn’t put his own little secret in jeopardy. He was the only one that could freely tell the truth. Dean could vow to get his revenge, but there was really nothing he could do to hurt the King of Hell.

            But if only Dean knew that the King of Hell had no interest in gossiping about Dean’s sexuality and Castiel’s sexual exploits with a human male. No, instead, he had something else planned for the older Winchester brother.

            Dean heard the shower stop, and turned the page of his skin mag. He knew that Cas was probably stepping out of the shower right now, and his body was dripping wet. He took a deep breath and closed the magazine, tossing it on the coffee table two feet away. He heard Sam making a small ruckus in the kitchen as he got something out of the cabinets. The boy was practically a bull in a china shop – always breaking, bumping, or destroying things. Whatever it was, it was probably food for his little “date”, as Dean had jokingly called it. Gabriel was coming over later – sooner than later, in fact. Why Sam took such a great interest in preparing dinner for the angel, Dean would never know. In fact, he didn’t want to know. He was happier _not_ knowing. He liked thinking that his brother’s anal virginity was still intact.

            A knock sounded on the door. Dean started to get up, but before he could even stand, Sam was at the door, smoothing out his flannel shirt. Dean snickered as Sam brushed a strand of hair behind his ear and opened the door.

            “Hey, Samsquatch,” Gabe said in greeting. He patted Sam on the arm and gave him a bright smile.

            Dean watched them quietly, and nearly choked on his own spit as Gabriel materialized a bouquet of flowers out of thin air. “This place needs some brightening up,” Gabriel said, stepping inside. “And I say – what is brighter than some flowers?” He turned to survey the bunker and stopped when he saw Dean. “Oh. Hello Deano.”

            “Gabe,” Dean answered stiffly.

            Suddenly, the bathroom door opened, and Cas appeared clad only in a white towel that hung loosely around his waist. His hair was still dripping from the shower, and there were still some water droplets running along his chest and shoulders. Dean gulped. Why did Cas had to come out _now_?

            What happened next, happened in a millisecond – all Dean had to do was blink, and it was finished. And that is what he did. Dean blinked – closed his eyes for a split second – and when they opened, Sam, Cas, and Gabriel were gone from his line of sight. Dean lowered his gaze and there they were.

            Gabriel had been transformed into a young child that looked to be around four of five years old. He had a light brown, almost caramel-colored hair that hung in his eyes. The clothes he had been wearing as an adult were either pooled around him, or hanging loosely from his body. Next to him was a very young Sam who looked to be about a year old, maybe younger. He looked the same as he had all those years ago when Dean carried him out of their house back in Lawrence. His oversized flannel shirt was all that covered his body – everything else in messy pile around him. Castiel was standing on the threshold of the bathroom, completely naked. He looked to be about three years old.

            Dean looked back and forth between his three friends that had recently become three children. “What the hell is going on here?!”

            Somewhere down in Hell, the King was laughing.


	2. Uncle Bobby

            “What the hell is goin’ on, Bobby?” Dean snarled into the phone as held it between his shoulder and the side of his head. Gabriel was in the living room, jumping up and down on the small couch. He wore one of Dean’s oversized t-shirts that fell to his ankles. He didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he seemed to be enjoying his new body a bit too much. A few minutes ago, he had destroyed Dean’s entire collection of _Busty Asian Beauties_ and was five seconds away from getting an ass kicking if he didn’t settle down. Cas was sitting on the floor, leaning up against Dean’s leg and sipping juice out of one of those child-proof cups. He wore his white button-down shirt and his giant tan trench coat. Even though both articles of clothing were entirely too large, they were the best they had at the moment. Dean was currently trying to put a diaper on Sam, but it wasn’t the traditional, easily disposable ones. Since Dean couldn’t exactly leave the kids alone to go to the store, he had to settle for using towels as Sam’s temporary underwear. However, creating a functional diaper out of bathroom towels was not exactly an easy task. Dean was having enough trouble with that without having to worry about Gabriel ruining the bunker.

            “I don’t know, Dean,” the older man said bitterly into the phone. “And don’t use that tone with me, boy! It must be some kind of spell.”

            “Well, can we reverse it?” Suddenly, a mug came flying past Dean’s head and hit the wall behind him. He whirled around to see a young Gabriel standing there, smiling like a madman. “GABRIEL, STOP IT.”

            “Dean?” Bobby’s voice came from the other end of the phone.

            Gabriel just grinned and stuck out his tongue. “Make me, old man!” Another mug shot at Dean’s head. He ducked just in time, porcelain shattering everywhere. Castiel hugged Dean’s leg, and Sam started crying.

            “DAMMIT GABRIEL.”

            “Dean?” Bobby asked again.

            “Haha, you can’t get me!”       

            “DO _NOT_ MAKE ME BRING OUT THE HOLY OIL YOU LITTLE—”

            And that’s when Bobby hung up.

 

* * * *

 

            When Bobby pulled up to the bunker, he could hear Dean shouting and swearing inside. He could hear a crying baby. And, he could hear a bunch of crashes, as if the place was falling apart. As he approached the front door to the bunker, he hesitated. He loved Dean and Sam as if they were his own children, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to step into a house with two toddler angels. And with Gabriel being . . . well, Gabriel, that was a very dangerous move.

            Nevertheless he knew that Dean needed help, and if he didn’t get it, either he would go off the handle and try to kill Gabriel, or Gabriel might destroy the entire bunker, and whatever was in a five-mile radius of it.

            When he reached the front door, he knocked softly. Bobby wasn’t a coward, and there were few things that truly _frightened_ him. But he wasn’t stupid either. It was his intelligence and his instincts that got him this far, and his instincts were screaming at him to _stay away_. He waited for about thirty seconds, and when no one came to answer the door, Bobby knocked again. This time, the door opened only a few second later.

            A three-year-old Cas stood there, looking up at the hunter with wide eyes. “Hello, Bobby,” he said. His normally deep and forbidding voice was now high-pitched and soft. “I’m glad you’re here. Dean needs help.”

            There was another crash from inside the bunker. “GABRIEL GET BACK HERE.”

            “I WANT CANDY!” the angel shouted in response. “CANDY! CANDY! CANDY! CANDY!”

            Bobby stepped inside the bunker to see Gabriel, who was wearing ridiculously large clothes, standing on the coffee table, shouting at Dean. Dean stood a three feet away, holding and trying to soothe a sobbing Sam while Gabriel continued to yell. “Would you STOP?!” Dean shouted. “YOU’RE UPSETTING YOUR BOYFRIEND!”

            “CANDY! CANDY! CANDY!” Gabe continued to chant.

            “DEAN WINCHESTER!” Bobby roared, making everyone, even a crying Sam, fall silent.

            “Bobby, thank God you’re here,” Dean said walking over to him. “I have no idea what the hell is going on! And Gabriel is gonna drive me up a fuckin’ wall if you don’t—”

            “First of all, watch your mouth! Second, why is Sam wearing a towel?” Bobby asked, looking at the boy he’d raised, now a baby all over again.

            “Uh . . . I didn’t have any diapers. In fact . . . I have no clothes for them to wear at all . . . And I can’t exactly leave them here to go buy stuff, and I sure as hell can’t take them with me dressed like this! Besides, Gabe will probably level anywhere we go,” Dean explained.

            Bobby shook his head. “Ya idjit.”

            Dean rolled his eyes exasperatedly. “Are ya hear ta help me, or insult me?!”

            “I’ll go to the story – get Sam some diapers, and get the rest a’ these kits some clothes that actually fit.”

            “NO CLOTHES! NO CLOTHES! NO CLOTHES!” Gabriel began chanting in the background.

            “Gabriel, be quiet,” Castiel tried to tell his older brother calmly. “You’re upsetting Dean.”

            Gabriel jumped off the coffee table and walked toward Cas with narrowed eyes. The younger boy took a step back, and nearly tripped over his gargantuan trench coat. “What are ya gonna do, if I don’t, Cassie?”

            “Don’t call me that, Gabe!”

            “Screw you, I do want I want!”

            “ _Deeeeaaaannnnn,_ ” Cas whined, running back to his boyfriend. He hugged his leg and buried his face into the fabric of Dean’s jeans. “Gabe’s being mean, and I don’t like it.”

            “Cas, grow up,” Dean said to the toddler roughly. “You’re a grown man for crying out loud!”

            Bobby winced, knowing what was coming next.        

            Cas looked up at Dean, his eyes watering. His lower lip began to quiver. “D- Dean . . . ?” he asked sadly. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.” And then he began to cry – wail more like it. He hugged Dean’s leg tightly, sobbing loudly.            

            Gabriel laughed. “CAS IS A CRYBABY!” he shouted. “CAS IS A CRYBABY!”

            That only made Cas cry harder.

            Dean felt like an asshole. “Aw, shit,” he muttered, picking the little three-year-old up. Holding the child close to his chest, and keeping Sam situated on the other arm, he looked at Bobby. “You see what I’m dealin’ with?” he growled at the older man.

            Bobby just stared at the scene with a shocked expression. Boy, was Dean over his head in this one. “Look . . . I’ll run to the story and get you whatever you need,” he offered. _And that means I’ll get outta this place,_ Bobby thought with a sense of relief. “Just tell me what to get.”

            Dean set Sam down on the table and wrote out a shopping list with his free hand. With the older, he still cradled a crying Cas closed. Cas wasn’t wailing like a cat in heat anymore, just sniffling quietly, and burying his face in Dean’s collar. Bobby watched Gabriel warily as the archangel got off the coffee table and slowly started toward them. He used one hand to brush his long, caramel locks out of his eyes. He seemed to not know what to do now that Dean wasn’t paying attention to him.

            Suddenly, the little boy snapped his fingers and the entire bunker was full of boxes and bags of different candies. Bobby shook his head. _Kid’s bad enough without a sugar rush,_ he thought. He was half-tempted to stay around and watch with Sam and Cas as Dean and Gabriel settled this little dispute. It certainly would be amusing.

            “GABRIEL!” Dean shouted.

            Cas looked around at all the candy, his brow furrowed in confusion. He was no longer crying, but instead seemed to be trying to figure out how they suddenly had so many sweets. Gabriel was already opening a box of chocolates and was devouring them like a man that hadn’t eaten in four days.

            Bobby took the shopping list and quietly, and quickly exited the bunker. When he closed the door behind him, he could hear Dean yelling at Gabriel, and he was pretty sure that Sam was crying – probably hidden somewhere under all the candy.

 


	3. Bath Time

            After Bobby brought all of the necessary supplies and got as far away as physically possible from the dysfunctional little family, it was time for Dean to perform an extremely difficult task: bath time. After Bobby had left, Gabriel began a “chocolate war” where he continuously hurled candy at Cas. For a while Cas hugged Dean’s leg and cried, pining for attention. Unfortunately, Dean was too busy trying to find Sam underneath all the candy Gabriel had magically poofed into existence.

            Feeling neglected, Cas had decided to participate in Gabriel’s game, and began hurtling chocolate back at his older brother.

            Once Dean had located his own brother underneath the mountains of candy, poor Sam was _very_ upset. He had cried for almost a solid hour until Dean was finally able to rock him to sleep. Once his little brother was safe and sound in the crib Bobby had picked up, he took Gabriel and Cas into the bathroom.

            “Alright, it’s bath time because the two of you had to go and have yourself a candy war,” he grumbled as he set Cas down on the floor beside his brother. “If you wanted to play Candy Crush, I would have given you my phone, all you had to do was ask.”

            “But you have bad pictures on your phone, Dean,” Cas piped up. “I’ve seen them – the ones of the naked women.”

            Gabriel let out a manic giggle, and Dean frowned. Now the archangel had something else to tease him about. “Cas, be quiet.”

            Cas whimpered, but, to Dean’s great pleasure, didn’t start crying.

            Dean put in the plug and began running warm water. As the tub filled up, Dean left the room for a minute to check on Sammy.

            Worst. Decision. Ever.

            While he was gone, Gabriel began looking around the bathroom for something interesting to play with. It was then that he found the bubble bath. With a giggle, he grabbed the bottle and squirted its entire contents into the bath. Cas watched, hesitant to try to stop Gabriel. He knew that Dean would be mad when he got back, but he wasn’t sure whose rage he was more afraid of – Dean’s, or Gabe’s. He decided that he trusted that Dean would never hurt him. Gabriel, on the other hand, he wasn’t so sure of. So he stood there, and watched the bubbles rise.

            When Dean returned to the bathroom, he saw Gabriel and Cas standing in the bathtub with bubbles up to their heads. Gabriel was smiling and blowing the suds everywhere. Cas was just standing in the tub, bubbles all around, as if they were attempting to engulf him. The three-year-old angel just stood there, blinking in confusion at his brother’s amusement. It seemed that even as a child, Cas maintained his serious attitude.

            “GABRIEL, WHAT THE HELL!?” Dean shouted, staring at the bubbles that now overflowed from the tub onto the floor.

            Gabriel just laughed and blew some of them at Dean. The hunter glowered at the angel. “You know, Sam is not going to be very happy when he grows up and finds out you used all of his bubble bath,” he pointed out. He figured that he would try a new approach – bring poor Sammy into the mix. He knew that – even though he was slightly uncomfortable with that idea – Gabriel liked and perhaps even loved his brother. Maybe the threat of Sam being mad at him would make him behave.

            The archangel stood there, considering that fact before shrugging. “I can always get more,” he said. And with a snap of his fingers, the entire room was filled with bubbles. Even Dean was consumed in the soapy cloud.

            “GET RID OF IT!” Dean roared.

            “Can’t hear you!” Gabriel called back. The hunter heard splashing sounds as the archangel began to play in the water. He then heard a disapproving grunt from Cas.

            “Stop splashing me, Gabriel,” he muttered.

            “Make me!” Gabriel goaded.

            “You know that I cannot do that.”

            “Ugh,” Gabriel groaned. “You’re no fun Cas.”

            “I never did understand your idea of ‘fun’, Gabriel. I do not understand how splashing water on someone else is amusing.”

            Dean had to admit that it was impressive to see that Cas still had such a wide vocabulary, and was able to speak so articulately. Maybe it was just because angels aged much differently than humans? Dean didn’t know, and he wasn’t really sure if he wanted to find out. He was just grateful that _someone_ still had some sense. Then again Gabriel never was very mature.

            There were more splashing noises as Gabriel continued to harass his brother. Dean started forward through the mist of suds, his arms out in front of him. He could hardly see a centimeter in front of him, and had to keep his eyes closed half the time so they wouldn’t be irritated by the soap.

            At long last, there was a groan, and then Dean could suddenly see. All of the bubbles were gone, and Gabriel and Cas stood in the bathtub that was so full it was almost overflowing. Gabriel was glowering at Cas while the younger angel stood there, returning the glare.

            “That’s no fair! You can’t use your angel mojo against mine!” Gabriel pouted.

            Cas’s lips twitched upward slightly. “Screw you, I do what I want,” he repeated Gabriel’s line from earlier.

            Dean smiled widely. “Cas,” he said. The young angel looked up at him, his bright blue eyes shining with happiness at being spoken too. “I love you.”


	4. Bows, Jerk

            A few days had gone by since the bubble bath incident. Since then, Dean had grown more accustomed to having two toddlers and a baby in the house. In fact, he would dare say that he was almost used to it. Of course he missed being able to treat Cas as a boyfriend, and not a child. And he missed being able to have a two-sided conversation with Sammy. But other than that, he didn’t mind it too much.

            Except for toddler Gabe.

            Toddler Gabe was going to be the death of him, that much he was sure of.

            But today, Gabe seemed to be somewhat subdued. He and Cas were sitting on the floor in front of the television set, completely absorbed program they were watching. Dean sat behind them on the couch, cradling Sammy in his arms.

            The baby was lying there, completely ignoring the show, and staring up at his big brother. Dean tried to focus on the show just so he wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable knowing that baby-Sam was staring at him. However, every time he looked down, Dean was slightly unsettled by the fact that even as a baby, Sam could still make a perfect bitch-face.

            As Dean watched the silly TV show that was mostly meant to keep Gabriel entertained for about an hour or so, Sam got bored. Little Sam got the short straw on this one. Gabriel could still talk. Cas could still talk. Dean was still normal size. But Sam was stuck as a six-month old baby who couldn’t talk, who also had the mind of an adult. It was frustrating. All he wanted was for Gabriel to start paying attention to him again. Every time Gabriel ran off and started causing trouble, or whenever Cas started whining for attention, Sam was put down in his stupid crib and ignored.

            Everyone else got love and attention. Why didn’t he?

            Sam used to be the most important in Dean’s life, and how he was being shoved aside for the angels!

            So, Sam decided that he was going to force Dean to pay attention to him. While Dean was keeping his green gaze fixated on the television screen, Sam reached up and began to grab fistfuls of Dean’s hair. At first, Dean did nothing, but when Sam continued to yank and pull on his follicles, Dean swore. “Stop it, Sam!” he growled sternly.

            That got Cas and Gabe’s attention. The two angels turned to see Sam with a fistful of Dean’s hair, and both of them seemed to get jealous almost instantly. Cas’s lower lip jutted outward ever so slightly in a pout, clearly upset that he couldn’t play with his boyfriend’s hair. Gabriel, on the other hand, got to his feet and put his hands on his hips. “So Sammich is allowed to play with your hair, but Cassie and I aren’t?”

            Dean gently took Sam’s tiny hand and pulled it away from his hair. “No. None of you are allowed to touch my hair!”

            “What about me, Dean?” Cas asked, staring at the hunter with stricken eyes. Even Sam had to admit that it was a little saddening to see Cas so heartbroken.

            Dean winched. “I . . . I guess you can, Cas,” he said reluctantly.

            The angel instantly brightened, and the next thing Sam knew, Cas was in Dean’s laugh, running his fingers through Dean’s hair. Sam gave Dean bitch-face number thirty-four and turned his head away to look at Gabriel. Only to his surprise, Gabriel was missing.

            “Cassie!” Gabe called from the other room. A few moments later, he ran in, carrying a small box. Sam watched, curious, as Gabriel clambered onto the sofa beside them and opened the box. Inside was a hairbrush, a few bows, and even a hairclip or two.

            If Cas hadn’t been on his lap, Dean would have stood up and backed away slowly from the archangel. “NO!” he growled. “ABSOLUTELY NOT! YOU ARE NOT PUTTING BOWS IN MY HAIR!”

            “Please, Dean?” Cas asked nicely, giving his boyfriend his best puppy-dog eyes. “We’ll make you look really pretty.”

            “YOU TWO ARE GROWN MEN. YOU SHOULDN’T BE WANTING TO PLAY “HAIR-STYLIST”!”

            “Maybe,” Gabriel allowed. “But we still have child-like tendencies. Besides, Cas hasn’t been a kid in 2500 years or better. And I’m a lot older than him! And this time were kids _on earth._ That means we have a bunch of other things to do! Like get free ice cream!”

            Dean let out a groan and looked at Cas. “You really wanna do this?” he asked.

            Sam couldn’t believe his ears. Was Dean actually letting them do this to him? Was his brother feeling okay?

            Castiel nodded. “Yes, Dean.”

            He groaned and nodded his head, giving his consent.

            And Sam watched as the last of his brother’s dignity was lost as Castiel and Gabriel – both angels of the Lord – put bows and other clips in his hair.

            When they had finished, Sam had to admit that his big brother looked better than normal. He had four bows in his hair – two green to match his eyes, and two blue to match Cas’s. There were a few other clips that they used to flatten the hair around his forehead that usually stuck up due to his hair gel.

            Sam laughed and giggled for a good half hour afterwards. Gabriel snapped his fingers and made it so Dean couldn’t take any of it out until ten o’clock that evening. Pissed was not strong enough a word to describe how Dean felt after her learned _that_ little piece of information.

            For the rest of the evening, Sam took pleasure in his brother’s constant grumblings and curses. _That’s what you get for ignoring me, jerk._


	5. Boo-Boos and DON'T FLIRT WITH MY HUMAN!

            Gabriel was bored. The archangel had been going crazy being cooped up in the bunker day and night. Of course, he could always snap his fingers and be in Hawaii, or somewhere equally relaxing and far away from the Winchester’s eyes, but there were a few problems with that plan. One, he would feel guilty going somewhere without Castiel. Two, Dean would freak out if Castiel randomly disappeared, and Sam would probably not be too pleased if Gabriel left. Three, Gabriel was physically equivalent to a five-year-old kid. Anywhere he would want to go – anywhere he actually _enjoyed_ wouldn’t let him in due to that fact alone.

            So, he decided to pester Dean until the hunter agreed to take them somewhere and do something fun.

            “Dean?” he asked, walking over to the couch where the hunter sat. Sam was propped up on one of his thighs, leaning into his belly. When he saw his archangel approach, the baby’s eyes lit up considerably. Gabriel noted that, and felt a twinge of guilt pierce his heart. He hadn’t been paying much attention, and his silently vowed to remedy that situation as quickly as possible.

            Dean looked over at the archangel with a scowl on his face. Castiel, who sat on the opposite side of Dean, peeked over his human’s legs to look at his brother. Gabriel gave Cas a small smirk, indicating that he was planning something. He held in a chuckle as his younger brother rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the television screen.

            “What d’ya want, Gabe?” Dean asked with less enthusiasm with usual (which was saying something since Dean never spoke to Gabriel with _any_ form of enthusiasm).

            “I’m bored,” Gabriel informed him, folding his little arms across his chest. “I wanna go do something.”

            Dean narrowed his eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

 

**********

 

            Gabriel thought he had a good idea. Going to the park would be nice for everyone. Dean could sit and relax with Sammy and have some brother-to-brother bonding time, and Gabriel and Castiel could play. He had no idea what Dean had in store. And as he stood there, wearing a child-harness with its leash tied to the doorknob that was just out of his reach, Gabriel began to regret suggesting _anything_ to Dean.

            “THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!” he fumed, his arms crossed as he scowled at the hunter. “I AM AN ARCHANGEL OF THE LORD, DAMNIT! UNTIE ME THIS INSTANT!” While Gabriel continued to rage, Sam sat in a stroller nearby, giggling uncontrollably. Dean shot his brother an affectionate look and continued to pack some supplies that his little traveling circus might need. Castiel sat on the floor next to Dean’s leg, his head resting on the hunter’s calf.

            Gabriel watched them with a furious expression. Dean was just ignoring him, Castiel seemed too focused on his beloved human, and Sam was enjoying his boyfriend’s pain way too much for Gabriel’s comfort. “Why does Cas get to be free?”

            Dean let out an exasperated sigh. “Gabriel, I could give you _a thousand_ reasons why Cas gets to be child harness-free.”

            Sam continued to giggle, earning a glare from Gabriel. The moment the archangel locked eyes with him, Sam gave his best bitchface as if to say: “That’s what you get for ignoring me!”

            At long last, Dean had finished packing the essentials, and put a small bag in the pouch on the bottom of Sam’s stroller. He then hoisted Castiel onto his shoulders, earning a small squeal of delight from the black-haired angel. Gabriel rolled his eyes. _Of course_ Cas would get special treatment. Dean wheeled Sam’s stroller toward the door, and finally untied Gabriel’s leash from the door.

            Just as Dean was about to open the door of the bunker, her gave Gabriel a stern look. “You behave yourself, and next time I won’t have Cas zap you in the harness. Got it?”

            Gabriel grudgingly nodded, and they stepped out into bright, sunny day.

 

**********

 

            The park was relatively crowded when they arrived. Dean walked over to a  bench and took Cas off his shoulders, wincing slightly. The moment they’d left the bunker, Gabriel had been pulling on his leash nonstop; Dean was sure that he’d pulled something. Dean gave the archangel a stern glare as he knelt down to unhook the leash from his harness.

            “Gabe, you behave yourself, got it?” Dean said. “If I see you using your powers, or messing with the other kids, we are going straight home.”

            “Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Dean, please. I know better. Cassie and I are just gonna play.”

            Cas pouted and glowered at his brother. He _did_ hate that nickname.

            “Okay,” Dean said, unhooking the leash. “Cas, be careful. Gabriel, don’t cause trouble.”

            As the two angels ran off, Dean sat on a bench and took Sam out of his stroller. Dean couldn’t help but notice how his little brother kept staring longingly at the two angels. He wanted to play too. Dean silently cursed Crowley for making Sam the youngest. He didn’t deserve to be a baby and be immobile while Cas and Gabriel were able to run around like rugrats.

            They sat on the bench for a while, Dean bouncing his little brother on his knee. He kept a close eye on Cas while he played. The dark-haired angel ran around, following his big brother as they explored the park and the playground within it. After about  a half hour, Dean saw an incredibly hot blond come walking up, holding her son’s hand. At first, Dean thought that she was going to complain to him and say that Gabriel had hurt the boy. But instead, she kissed his forehead and sent him off to play. Dean shifted uneasily as she sat down beside him on the bench. If he hadn’t been with Cas, Dean would have been all over this woman. In fact, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of this sooner – what better way to pick up chicks? But he couldn’t do that anymore. He loved Cas more than anything.

            “Is he yours?” the woman asked, motioning to Sam.

            Dean looked down at his brother to see Sam looking up at him, giving him a very venomous bitchface. Dean shook his head. “Oh, no. He’s my nephew.”

            “Oh,” the woman said, but kept smiling. “Well, he’s very adorable.”

            Just then, Dean saw Gabriel and Cas heading his way. He gulped, hoping that they didn’t get the wrong impression. As they neared, the woman asked. “These your nephews too?”

            Gabriel stopped about a foot away from the bench and appraised the woman slowly. Cas, however, immediately climbed onto the bench so he was between Dean and the blond. He proceeded to climb into Dean’s lap next to Sam, and wrapped his tiny arms around his partner the best he could.

            “No, these . . . these are my boys,” Dean said awkwardly, patting Cas on the back. “This little guy’s Castiel. And that’s—”

            “Gabriel,” the archangel interrupted, still watching the woman calculatingly.

            “Hello, Gabriel,” the woman said, holding out her hand.

            Gabriel folded his arms across his chest. “Stay away from De—Dad.”

            The woman brought her hand back to her lap and looked at Dean. “Um, well . . . I guess I should go?”

            “Please do,” Gabriel said sharply, now glaring at her.

            “Gabriel,” Dean said sternly, feeling the need to say _something._ “Leave the nice lady alone.”

            Cas tightened his old on Dean as if to say: “Watch what you say, Dean.”

            However, the lady got the message. She got up, bid Dean farewell and hurried off to sit somewhere else.

 

**********

 

            After that little episode, Dean was tempted to take all three of them back to the bunker, but decided to let them stay a little while longer. He knew that Gabriel and Cas’s confrontation with the blond woman was inevitable, so he let it slide.

            They stayed for another hour, and just as it was about time for them to head home, the worst thing possible happened. Dean had just called Gabriel and Cas to come over. The two brothers were running toward him, laughing and giggling like normal kids. Dean couldn’t help but smile at the two of them. They looked so happy – Cas especially. When was the last time his angel had actually _had fun_?

            When they neared Dean, they crossed over from the grass onto the cement pathway that circled the park. Gabriel crossed over effortlessly, but Cas’s foot caught on the cement, and he tripped. He hit the cement hard, and immediately cried out. Dean felt fear clench at his gut. “CAS!” he handed Sam to Gabriel and rushed to his angel’s side. When he reached him Cas was in the process of getting up. Tears were streaming down his face, and he was sobbing.

            “D- Dean . . . DEAN!” he wailed. Dean helped him get to his feet. The angels hands and knees were both badly scraped, and bleeding.

            Dean gently gathered Cas up in his arms and looked at Gabriel. “Gabriel, you got Sam?” he asked, trying to remain calm despite Cas’s screams of pain even though they were slowly killing him.

            Gabriel nodded dutifully, and the four headed home, Dean carrying Cas in his arms, and Gabriel pushing Sammy in the stroller.

 

**********

 

            Back at the bunker, Gabriel was on babysitting duty with Sammy. Dean took Cas into the bathroom and got him cleaned up. He gently washed the dirt off his hands and knees, occasionally leaning forward and planting tender kisses on his angel’s forehead. Cas wasn’t sobbing anymore, but he continued to whimper and sniffle whenever Dean touched his wounds.

            Then came the disinfectant. Dean poured the disinfectant over Cas’s injuries and winced as the his lover screamed in pain. When Cas wasn’t looking, Dean wiped away a tear that was threatening to fall. Once the worst part was over, Dean patched him up, and brought Cas into the room they shared.

            Meanwhile, Gabriel was sitting on the couch, holding baby Sam. Gabriel held his boyfriend tightly, trying to ignore Cas’s situation. When Dean put Cas to bed, Gabriel knew that Dean wouldn’t be coming back out of the room. After all, Castiel was Dean’s partner; it was only natural for Dean to be concerned. Gabriel knew that if that had happened to Sam, he would be doing the same.

            “Sammich,” Gabriel said quietly. “I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you.”

            Sam just blinked at him.

            “I’ll do better. I promise, Sammy,” Gabriel said, kissing his boyfriend on the forehead.

            Sam smiled widely. “Gabweil,” he said quietly. Gabriel had to laugh. Sam’s voice – normally so deep and manly – was now so high-pitched and childlike. There was also the part that he couldn’t appear to pronounce R’s.

            Gabriel laughed, and then caught Sam glaring at him. “Hey, I’m not laughing _at_ you,” Gabriel tried to soothe him. “You’re just so freakin’ adorable, I can’t help myself.”

            Sam smiled then, and Gabriel thought he even blushed a bit.


	6. Hey, Jude

            Castiel and Gabriel were asleep, but Sam was wide awake and screaming his head off. Dean rolled out of bed and walked into the living room where Sam’s crib was set up. He walked over and picked up his brother out of the crib. “Sammy, c’mon. Stop crying.” When Sam didn’t stop, Dean began to rock him back and forth. “Aw, c’mon man. It’s one o’clock in the morning. You’re gonna wake Cas and Gabe.”

            Sam just cried harder. Dean continued to rock him, bouncing him up and down very gently. “C’mon, Sammy . . .” he groaned softly. “Please. Please? _Sammy._ ”

            No matter what Dean did, Sam kept crying. He was running out of options, and then it hit him. As he walked around the living room of the bunker, he began to sing.

 

_“Hey Jude, don’t make it bad._

_Take a sad song and make it better._

_Remember you let her into your heart_

_Then you can start to make it better._

_Hey Jude, don’t be afraid._

_You were made to go out and get her._

_The minute you let her under your skin_

_Then you begin to make it better._

_And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain._

_Don’t carry the world upon your shoulders_

_For well you know that it’s a fool who plays it cool_

_By making his world a little colder._

_Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah_

_Hey Jude, don’t let me down._

_You have found her, now go get her._

_Remember you let her into your heart,_

_Then you can start to make it better._

_So let it out and let it in, hey Jude, begin._

_You’re waiting for someone to perform with_

_And don’t you know that it’s just you, hey Jude, you’ll do._

_The movement you need is on your shoulder._

_Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah_

_Hey Jude, don’t make it bad._

_Take a sad song and make it better._

_Remember to let her under your skin_

_Then you’ll begin to make it_

_Better better better better better better, oh._

_Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude._

_Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude._

_Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude._

_Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude._

_Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude._

_Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude._

_Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude._

_Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude._

_Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude._

_Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude._

_Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude._

_Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude._

_Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude._

_Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude._

_Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude._

_Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude._

 

            By the end of the song, Sam had gone completely quiet, and was staring at Dean with a thoughtful expression. Dean gave his little brother a smile and kissed his forehead. He brought him back over to the crib, but just as he was about to lay him down, Sam started crying again.

            Dean groaned. “Come on, Sam!” he hissed in an effort to keep from waking Cas and Gabriel. “I sang for you and everything!”

            “Dean,” Gabriel’s voice sounded behind him. “Let me try.”

            Dean turned and gave the archangel a skeptical look. He let out a sharp sigh before nodding in consent. The moment Sam passed over into Gabriel’s arms, he stopped crying. Gabriel smiled and held Sam close to him. “Was that it, Samsquatch? You just missed your Gabwiel?” he asked, amused.

            Sam smiled. “Gabweil!”

            Dean just started at the two of them in awe. He left them alone then and went back into the room he shared with Cas. The tiny angel was lying in bed, undisturbed by Sam’s cries. Dean let out a sigh of relief and climbed into bed beside him. Just as Dean closed his eyes, he heard Cas speak. “You sing beautifully, Dean.”


	7. Scary Movie Night

            “ _Come on,_ Dean,” Gabriel pleaded, stamping one foot impatiently on the floor.

            “Wow,” Sam said, with a smirk. “Did you weally just stomp your foot?” It had been almost a month since Dean had sung to Sam, and since then, the younger Winchester seemed to finally be learning how to speak. He still couldn’t pronounce his R’s properly, but other than that, he seemed to be doing very well. Dean was extremely relieved by this. At least now his brother wouldn’t be left out as much, and maybe wouldn’t cry as much anymore since he could just _tell_ them what he wanted.

            Gabriel shot him a glare. “Shut up, Moose.”

            “Hey, don’t start with the name calling, Gabriel,” Dean snapped. “And _no_ we cannot watch _Paranormal Activity._ That movie is entirely too scary for you guys.” He stood in on the threshold of the living room, dressed in full hunting gear, and holding a black bag that contained all the necessary weapons he might need.

            Gabriel rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly. “Dean, we are grown men. I think we can handle it.”

            “I said _no_ , Gabriel. It might upset Sam and Cas,” Dean said sharply. “Now, Garth called and he says he needs me for a hunt—”

            “What is it?” Sam asked, cutting Dean off in mid-sentence.

            “Werewolf pack,” Dean answered. “I guess a male moved into town, turned a female and now they’re goin’ at it like rabbits. And he says he can’t handle it alone, so he asked me to go help him out. Bobby will be over at five with dinner, and he’ll stay the night and look after you guys.”

            Sam, who was sitting on the floor, nodded. Gabriel, who stood next to Sam, grunted. His arms were folded across his chest, and he was still pouting furiously. Cas, who sat on the couch, was looking at Dean with big, sad puppy dog eyes. “D- Dean . . . you’re leaving us?” he sniffled.

            Dean sighed and went over to his angel’s side. “Cas, it ain’t like that. Believe me, it ain’t. I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

            Cas nodded weakly, and wrapped his tiny arms around Dean’s neck. “You promise?”

            Dean nodded. “Yeah, Cas. I promise.” He pulled away slowly, and kissed Cas’s temple. “You be good for Bobby, okay? And look after your brother and Sammy?”

            Nodding, Cas sat back on the sofa and looked at the floor. He _clearly_ did not like the idea of his human leaving him for any period of time.

            “Okay,” Dean said, getting to his feet and looking at the others. “I’m off. Be careful. Stick together. Don’t leave the bunker. Gabriel, if anyone comes in here, you shoot first ask questions later. Look after Cas and Sammy.”

            Gabriel nodded. “I won’t let anything happen to them, Deano. I’ve got angel mojo, remember? We’ll be fine.”

            Dean looked over them all for a while before nodding. “Okay . . . I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

 

**********

 

            The moment Dean was gone, Gabriel went over to the TV and opened Netflix. Cas watched him curiously. “What are you doing?” he asked.

            “Shut it, Cassie,” was all Gabriel said in response.

            “Gabweil,” Sam said, crawling toward his angel. He glanced up at the TV and watched as Gabriel typed in the name of the movie he was looking for.

 

PARANORMAL ACTIVITY

 

            “Gabwiel, no,” Sam said. “Dean said we couldn’t watch it.”

            “Who cares what Dean said,” Gabriel said in response. “He’s not here, so he can’t tell us what to do.”

            Cas glowered at his brother. “I’ll tell Dean when he gets home,” he warned.

            Gabriel rolled his eyes. “You’re just scared, Cassie.”

            “Am not!”

            “Are too!”

            “I AM NOT!” Cas shouted standing up on the couch. “I’m not scared, Gabriel! And stop calling me Cassie!” Just as he finished his sentence, one of the mugs that Dean had left on the coffee table shattered into a million pieces.

            Sam cried out, and put his hands over his face as pieces of the cup splintered in every direction. Sam began to cry as a few pieces found hit him, cutting his skin. Gabriel glared at Cas, enraged. “LOOK WHAT YOU DID!” Instead of fighting with Cas, he knelt down beside Sam and put two fingers to the baby’s forehead. Almost instantly, he ceased crying, and all of his cuts and scrapes were gone. Gabriel proceeded to clean up the broken mug, and then rounded on Cas. “Why do you have to act like a spoiled brat all the time?”

            Cas glared back, standing his ground. “You’re the bratty one, Gabriel! Every time you don’t get something you want, you throw a temper tantrum! Stop being so immature!”

            Gabriel opened his mouth to say more, but then closed it. “Fine,” he said. “Cas, you aren’t allowed to watch the movie with Sam and I.”

            “Gabwiel,” Sam protested. “That’s not faiwr. And you awe just pwoving Cas’s point.”

            Gabriel looked down at Sam and sighed. “But what he did to you—”

            “I used to get weally mad at Dean when he’d call me Samantha. Maybe you should be nicewr to Cas,” Sam offered.

            Gabriel looked at his younger brother and sighed. “Fine . . . Cas, you can watch.”

            “What else?” Sam prompted.

            “And I’m . . . I’m sorry for calling you Cassie.”

            Cas smiled. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for breaking the cup and yelling.”

            Gabriel smiled slightly. “Alright, enough ‘chick flick moments’ as your human would say. Let’s watch the movie!”

 

**********

 

            When the movie was finished, it was nearly five o’clock, meaning Bobby would be arriving soon. And, honestly, all three of them couldn’t wait for him to get there. The movie was – just as Dean had predicted – very terrifying and had scared the shit out of Cas and Sam. Even Gabriel had jumped on more than one occasion.

            At five, Bobby entered the bunker and greeted them all as usual. They returned the greeting, even Sam. Bobby was both surprised and proud to see Sam finally talking and rubbed his head affectionately. However, Bobby couldn’t help but notice how quiet they all were. In fact, they were a bit too quiet. As the night wore on and the sun set, Bobby also noticed that Sam and Cas would jump at almost every sound they heard.

            When it came time to put them all to bed, the boys requested that they all sleep in Gabriel’s room. Bobby didn’t see why they couldn’t, and let them have their “slumber party”, as he’d phrased it.

            Once they were all in bed and Bobby had said goodnight and closed the door, the three boys huddled close together in the bed. Each of them was reliving the horrible moments from the movie in their head. At every sound, they would either jump, or whimper, or both.

            For hours, they remained this way. Gabriel held Sam close to his chest, doing his best to console his human lover. Cas, on the other hand was at the disadvantage. Sam and Gabriel had each other, but Cas was all alone. He kept thinking that Dean was gone. Dean was gone and he couldn’t protect him. Dean _wasn’t there._

            And then, Cas couldn’t take it anymore. He began to cry. Tears streamed down his face in endless procession. And then he began to wail. “DEEEEEEAAAAANNNNN!!!! DEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAANNNNNNNN!!!!”

            “Cas, shut—”

            “What the hell is goin’ on in here?” Bobby demanded, yanking open the door and turning on the lights.

            After Gabriel explained what had happened to Bobby, the old hunter brought Cas out to the living room and called Dean’s cell. The three times Bobby called, he got no answer. This only made Cas sob harder. “DEAN IS GONE!” he kept saying.

            Bobby was three seconds away from going off to find his adoptive son before Cas made himself sick. “Answer your damn phone, boy!” he snarled as he dialed the number one more time.

            This time, Dean answered. “Hello?”

            “Dean, you need to come home now,” Bobby shouted over Cas’s screams.

            “What is it? What’s wrong? Is that Cas? Bobby what’s—”

            “Just get here, will ya?!”

            “Okay, okay. I’m coming right now. Tell Cas I’m coming.” With that, he hung up.

            Bobby snorted. “Idjit.”

 

**********

 

            Dean got back the bunker almost two hours later. By then, it was 3 AM. Cas had calmed down now that he knew that Dean was coming back, but he was still liable to burst out sobbing at every moment. When Dean arrived, he ran into the bunker and immediately went to the living room. The moment Cas saw him,  he leapt off the couch and ran straight toward him. “DEEEEEAAANNNNN!!”

            Dean caught Cas in his arms and picked him up, holding him close. “Shh, it’s okay, baby,” he whispered, stroking his angel’s back. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m okay. Everything’s okay.” He then looked to Bobby. “What the hell happened?”

            “Apparently, they watched a scary movie before I got here,” Bobby explained. “I guess it scared all three of them pretty good.”

            Dean held Cas closer, making a mental note to kick Gabriel’s ass later. “Cas, it’s okay. It’s just a movie.”

            “I . . . I was scared . . .” Cas cried. He was sobbing again, but this time out of relief than anything else. “I was scared that the monster was gonna get me.”

            “Cas, you know that Bobby, Sam and I hunt monsters. You know what we would never let anything get you,” Dean soothed, kissing the op of Cas’s head. “I’d never let anything happen to you.”

            Cas whimpered and nodded. “I know . . . but it’s still really scary.”

            “I know, Cas. I know,” Dean said.

            Movement out of the corner of his eye attracted the hunter’s attention. He turned to see Gabriel enter the room, holding a shaking Sam in his arms. The archangel was looking at the floor timidly. “I’m really sorry, Dean . . . I should have listened to you.  I really didn’t think it would be that scary.”

            Dean glared at the archangel, but then realized that he was being genuine. He saw the pain on Gabriel’s face, and knew that he sincerely regretted scaring Sam and his brother so badly. Dean let out a labored sigh and rubbed Cas’s back. “It’s okay, Gabriel. But when I tell you not to do something, you don’t do it, okay? I know I don’t look like I know what I’m talking about, but . . . seven or eight times outta ten, I do.”

            Gabriel, perhaps grudgingly, nodded in agreement. “Okay . . . I’ll _consider_ listening to you before I do something,” he allowed. Even now when he was trying to be remorseful, he was still as obstinate as ever.

            “Gabriel,” Dean said as the archangel turned to head back into his room. He stopped and looked back at the hunter expectantly. “If you scare my brother or Cas again – kid or not – I’m gonna kick your ass.”

            The archangel just smirked. “Pfft. I’d like to see you try.”


	8. The Return of the King

            The gang was sitting on the couch in the bunker, watching TV again. Dean knew that he was sitting in the presence of three other men (who currently appeared otherwise) and yet, even he, the only one _not_ in the body of a child, found himself oddly entertained by children programs. Ever since the “scary movie incident”, Gabriel and Dean seemed to have worked out their differences . . . at least for the moment. An unofficial truce had been settled between them, it seemed. Sam and Cas were just glad that they didn’t have to watch their brothers bicker with their boyfriends.

            Dean happened to be in the process of nodding off, when the King appeared. He entered in silence – his arrival was not accompanied with a flutter of wings the way an angel’s was – but the two angels presence immediately sensed him. Gabriel jumped off the couch, startling Sam and Dean, and Cas immediately moved to stand in front of little Sam.

            “Gabe? Cas? What the hell’s going—” he turned around and saw Crowley standing in the threshold of the living room.

            The King of Hell smiled pleasantly and looked between the four of them. “Hello, boys.”

            Gabriel and Dean were then standing in front of him, both in their fighting stances and prepared to protect Sam and Cas at all costs. Cas held Sam in his eyes, preparing to make a run for it if things got ugly. He didn’t want to leave Dean and Gabriel of course, but he knew how important Sam was to both of them. If something happened to Sam, both Dean and Gabriel would be heartbroken – maybe even worse. Cas knew that he had to try to prevent that scenario.

            “What do you want, Crowley?” Dean almost growled, pulling on Ruby’s demon killing knife.

            The demon gave Dean a pained expression. “Oh, Squirrel,” he explained in mock distress. “You wound me. After all we’ve been through, this is how you—”

            “Start talkin’, red eyes,” Gabriel said forcefully. Even though he was in the body of a five-year-old, the archangel still seemed rather threatening. He was still small, of course, and his voice was high-pitched, but he left no room for argument. His eyes were hard, and his body rigid.

            Crowley appraised the archangel for a moment before looking back to Dean. “I just came to check and see if you were still alive, that’s all. See? I was _concerned_. I mean, I just wanted to see if my little . . .  experiment had killed you or not.”

            “Experiment?” Dean repeated dubiously.

            “YOU!” Sam suddenly shouted. He squirmed in Cas’s arms, scowling at Crowley venomously. “LET ME GO, CAS! IT WAS HIM! CWOWLEY TUWNED US INTO CHILDWEN!”

            Crowley laughed, throwing his head back in the process. “Moose, you’re absolutely precious! And I’m not surprised that even as a baby, you’re smarter than this lot.”

            “Change us back!” Cas interjected then. He set Sam down on the couch, forgetting his original plan. He had to get Crowley to lift this spell, or whatever it was. “Now, Crowley!”

            “Aww, what’s the matter, love?” Crowley sneered. “You don’t like being too young to kiss your boyfriend where his bathing suit goes?”

            “Enough of this,” Gabriel commanded. His voice suddenly deepened, and his eyes lit up bright blue. An angel blade materialized in his hand, and a set of six, shadowy, golden wings extended from his back. He snapped his fingers, and Dean and Sam suddenly found themselves deaf. Once sure that the humans could not hear, Gabriel spoke in his true voice. “Crowley. Change us back now. I cannot undo what you’ve done – you’ve somehow warded the spell against angels. Turn us back, or I will smite you and find someone else who will!”

            Castiel had now gotten into his own battle stance as well – wings (a shadowy, black color), eyes, and all – and was now perched with perfect grace and poise on the arm of the couch. He looked like a young lion, ready to spring toward the demon at any moment.

            Crowley looked like he was about to accidentally soil his pants. “Look, I – I can’t undo it.”

            “Then you are of no use to us,” Cas said simply. He jumped off the couch and flew to his brother’s side.

            “Wait!” Crowley pleaded. “It will wear off – it’s made too!”

            Gabriel paused, but Castiel still seemed set on killing him. The archangel laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “How long?” he asked. When the demon didn’t respond, Gabriel raised his voice so loud tha the bunker shook. “HOW LONG!?”

            “A YEAR!” Crowley blurted. He then seemed to calm down slightly. He smoothed out his black suit, as if that helped him regain his composure. “You’re already two months in. Look, this wasn’t meant to hurt the two of you. This is Dean’s punishment for all the times he’s screwed up my plans. You two just . . . happened to be . . . unfortunately involved.”

            “Unfortunately for you,” Castiel said darkly.

            Gabriel tightened his grip on his brother’s shoulder, as if to warn him. He put his blade away, and relaxed. “Okay.”

            “Gabriel,” Castiel whispered in disbelief. “You’re just gonna believe him? Brother, you know that demons lie!”

            “And I know when I’m being lied to, Cassie. However, if he somehow fooled me and was lying all along, then in a few months we can slay him together,” he replied. Gabriel then returned to normal then – he shut off his angel voice, folded his wings, and made his eyes return to their warm, whiskey-brown color. Castiel remained uneasy, but copied his brother. When Castiel had completely gone back to his normal, human form, Gabriel gave the Winchester brothers their hearing back. By then, Crowley was gone.

            “What the fuck happened!?” Dean yelled once he could hear again. “What were you talking about?!”

            “Crowley told us – with a bit of persuasion – that the spell he put on us will wear off in ten months,” Cas explained. As the angel mojo wore off, both he and Gabriel were beginning to return to their vessels’ childlike behavior. He walked over and hugged Dean’s leg. The hunter sighed; he could never stay angry when Cas was acting like this. The hunter picked him up, and balanced the little angel on his hip.

            “This is bull,” Sam pouted from his seat on the couch. “I don’t wanna be a baby anymowe!” Even though he had managed to master (for the most part) speech, he still didn’t have complete control over his emotions. The next thing Dean knew, Sam was crying.

            Gabriel went over to comfort little Sam, and Dean watched with a hint of dread. This was going to be a _long_ ten months.


	9. Angel Rock Bands

            Thunder roared from the black sky, and rain pelted against the roof of the bunker in massive drops. Dean was sitting in the library. He was working on a case with Garth, and was looking up information on wraiths. Sam had already been put to bed and Gabriel and Cas were watching TV. This was one of the few moments where things actually seemed normal. Not to mention that apart from the rain, not a sound could be heard.

            Another crack of thunder shook the bunker. Dean smirked, remembering how Gabriel had told him the story about how, during his teenage years, he had started an angel rock band with Lucifer and Balthazar and had, consequently, caused the first thunderstorm. Gabriel had insisted that they were the best angel band ever created (and there had been many “remakes” of their band), while Michael had said that they played so badly that the heavens cried in distress.

            “I was bored,” Gabriel had said. “That is how most of my schemes start out: boredom. And I was a teenage angel, so . . . yeah, you can imagine how well that was going. I was angsty . . . rebellious – not Luci rebellious, but still pretty unruly – and I was pestering Dad about things I could do.

            “Dad had just created Earth. Adam and Lilith weren’t alive yet, and Eve hadn’t even been thought of. That meant that Luci hadn’t fallen yet. And I wanted to go play with Dad’s newest toy. But he wouldn’t’ let me. He wouldn’t let me do anything. ‘Stay in Heaven, Gabriel,’ he’d said. ‘Wait until I call upon you to do your work,’ he’d said. And I said screw that! Dad was always so cryptic and so mysterious all the time. I never did understand why he couldn’t just _speak plain English and tell me what he was trying to say._ So I decided to take matters into my own hands.

            “Most of the other angels had already been created – unfortunately, Cassie hadn’t been created yet. Of course, Dad had already planned to create him. Dad always knew things like that – he knew that Castiel would same day be made, but not quite yet. Balthazar was alive, though. He was younger than me, and not quite a teenager yet . . . pre-teen really. Luci was the second eldest angel, and he loved Dad probably more than all of us, but he had this rebellious streak too. And he was always looking for new, interesting things to do.

            “So when I was look for ways to piss Dad off, Balthazar . . . kind of brought drums into existence.”

            “Brought drums into existence?” Sam had interrupted during the first telling. “Do I even want to know what that means?”

            “Well, you know how I can snap my fingers and things magically appear? Well, that’s what Balthazar did. He dicked around with them for a while, then Luci found them and all was lost. Just between us: Luci was – and is – the best drummer to ever walk the earth. After Luci claimed the drums and _refused_ to let any one touch them, Balthazar and I brainstormed. Balthazar was the musical mastermind, though. He snapped up a guitar and a bass. I learned how to play the guitar, and he got the bass . . . And that was that.      

            “When Dad finally found out what he did – oh, it was priceless! ‘GABRIEL!’ he bellowed. ‘WHAT IN MY NAME HAVE YOU DONE?’ I tried to tell him that it was all Balthazar, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He said that he only did it because I had asked him to. He also accused me of corrupting my brothers.

            “Can you imagine? _Me_ corrupting _Lucifer_? It’s preposterous!

            “Luci had stood up to Dad and told him that we were going to play our instruments for all the angels. Dad was furious, but he didn’t do anything to reprimand us. If he _truly_ wanted to stop us, he easily could have taken our instruments away, or could have locked us away in Heaven’s dungeon for the next thousand years.

            “But he didn’t. He let us have our concert.

            “Everyone – even Michael who thought he was better than everyone else – showed up. Of course, Michael and all of our brothers and sisters were equally horrified and confused by our display. But I think that, in the end, they enjoyed it. Deep, deep, _deep_ down in their graces, they enjoyed it.

            “And, during the concert, Lucifer played so loud that his drums could be heard on Earth! And water rained from the skies, as if Heaven itself was crying from the _beauty_ of our performance!”

            “Wow, aren’t you modest,” Dean had muttered.

            “Dean, be nice,” Sam had scolded. He had just smiled at his boyfriend’s tale, clearly happy to hear anything Gabriel wanted to say.

            “Shortly after the concert, Dad made Adam. And . . . well, we all know what happened to Luci after Dad told him to bow before humanity. The band broke apart, and . . . that was that. After our band, other angels tried to follow in our innovative footsteps, but they were never nearly as good. However, the concerts became . . . more accepted after I left Heaven. And now, they happen all the time. Young angels throw concerts all the time – make thunderstorms and such. Just remember: none of them ever come close to us.”

            Dean smirked at the story. He could just see it in his head.

            As the angel concert continued overhead, the bunker continued to shake. The fifth time this happened, Dean heard the pitter-patter of bare feet on the tile floor. He glanced over and saw Cas standing in the door of the library. “Cas?” Dean said in confusion.

            The angel didn’t answer. Instead, he ran toward the hunter and climbed into his lap. “I don’t like storms, Dean,” he whimpered. “They’re too loud, and they scare me when they shake the bunker.”

            Dean sighed and closed the book he’d been studying. He pulled Cas into a tight hug and held him there. “It’s okay, Cas,” he murmured, kissing the side of the little angel’s head. “C’mon.” He got up then, and headed toward the room they shared, cradling Cas in his arms.

            When they reached their room, Dean set Cas down on the bed. Another blast of thunder made the dark-haired angel whimper. Dean slipped off his shirt and pants, and climbed into bed beside his little angel. Cas huddled closer into his human’s chest, and seemed to relax as Dean’s warmth swirled around him. Eventually, he calmed down completely, the thunder no longer bothering him.

            “Dean,” Cas whispered after a while.

            “Huh?” Dean said, groggily. He had just been drifting off when Cas spoke.

            “My brothers and sisters are _terrible_ musicians.”


	10. The Adventures of Sabriel, Part 1

            Gabriel’s truce with Dean didn’t last long. Maybe a week, Gabriel was on his best behavior, trying to get back into the hunter’s good graces. Once he was certain that Dean wasn’t going to throw a molotov with holy fire at him, Gabriel began to revert to his old ways. But this was a slow, methodical process. He wanted to ease Dean back into the idea of chaos before he actually started causing it. So, Gabriel was very meticulous about his actions. All the while, he was thinking up a storm – concocting one of the biggest, greatest schemes of his life.

            It went into motion on a Tuesday afternoon. Dean and Castiel had gone out grocery shopping, which meant that Gabriel and Sam were left alone. Since Dean was gone, the TV was off, and the bunker was oddly silent. Sam sat on the couch, dozing off while Gabriel paced back in forth in front of it.

            “So . . .” Gabriel said conversationally. He ceased his pacing for a while, and faced his boyfriend. “We’re alone.”

            Sam gave the archangel a bitch-face. “It’s not like we can do anyting.”

            “Says who?” Gabriel countered, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

            Sam’s lips curled back slightly in disgust. “We’re kids, Gabwiel.”

            “Sammy!” the archangel exclaimed with false horror. “Get your mind out of the gutter! I wasn’t talking about _that._ ”

            Now, the boy’s expression changed. “What did you mean, then?” he inquired with a renewed curiosity.

            “Dean and Cassie are out – let’s cause some trouble!” Gabriel replied simply. He puffed out his chest, doing his best to look proud of his idea.

            Sam shook his head. “You gotta be more specific Gabe.”

            “For starters, why don’t we go out?” The archangel tried a different approach then. _If Samsquatch is gonna be in with me on this, I guess I gotta show him what’s in store_. “I haven’t taken you on a date in a while.”

            “A date?” Sam queried dubiously. “That doesn’t sound like trouble-making.”

            “Sound is the key word my moosey friend,” Gabriel answered with a devilish smile. “C’mon! Let’s go out – we’ll be back before Dean-o and Cassie.”

            Even though he still didn’t look convinced, Sam nodded. Gabriel smirked and gathered Sam in his arms. As the two left the bunker, Gabriel resisted the urge to gloat over his small win. Soon, Sam would be on board entirely, and the real fun could commence. _Victory shall soon be mine!_ The archangel thought with glee. _Get ready, Dean-o. We’re gonna leave a trail a mile-long for you to follow!_

 

********** 

 

            “And candy shop? Weally, Gabwiel?” Sam asked. Gabriel could hear the disappointment in his partner’s voice and suppressed the small twinge of pain it brought about. Sam’s opinion and feelings were of Gabriel’s upmost concern. If he wasn’t happy, than Gabriel found himself unable to be happy too.

            _But he’ll be happy soon,_ Gabriel tried to reason with himself. _Once he finds out what we’re going to do, he’ll be more than happy._

            “Oh, it’s not that bad, Samsquatch. Besides,” he added after a moment. “It could be fun.”

            Sam’s face wrinkled in confusion. “Wait, what do you—?” Gabriel had already opened the door and was stepping inside. Sam cut off as he looked around the store, his blue-gray eyes running over all the different sweets. They lined the walls, the counters – everywhere they could fit. There was a small counter parallel to the entrance, and a boy that looked like he belonged in college and had way too much acne to have a social life stood behind it.

            “Well, hello there,” he greeted them with a cheerful smile.

            Gabriel balanced Sam on his hip and walked up to the counter. He looked up at the college boy whose name tag read “Archie” and said, “One of everything, please.”

            Archie smiled at the archangel and stepped out from behind the counter. “Are you lost, little boy?”

            “Little boy?!” Gabriel demanded. Of course, he knew how he looked, but he wasn’t going to stand for some nerd to call him a little boy! “I’ll have you know, that I’ve killed hordes of demons single-handedly—”

            “What kind of TV have you been watching?” Archie said, sounding genuinely shocked by Gabriel’s outburst. “Where are your parents?”

            “Well . . . My mom’s dead and my dad hasn’t been home in a few days,” Sam suddenly piped up. Gabriel felt his lips twitch in the beginnings of a smile. Sam always knew how to play along.

            “I don’t even have a mom. Figure that one out,” Gabriel added.

            “Do you know your dad’s phone number?” Archie asked, looking between the hunter and the angel. “Maybe I could call him.”

            “You could try praying, but I doubt he’d listen,” the archangel offered. Sam began to giggle.

            The boy seemed slightly confused by this. “Praying is always good – but I’d like his phone number.”

            “He has like fifty,” Sam spoke again. “Do you want one of those?”

            Archie looked at Gabriel then and sighed. “Why don’t you take your brother and—”

            “He’s not my brother,” Gabriel said matter-of-factly. “He’s my human boyfriend.”

            “Um . . .” Archie said, now looking incredibly concerned and even a bit terrified. “What?”

            “Oh, and we awe not actually this young,” Sam added. “We awe kinda like . . . in our thiuhties. Oh, and this is Gabwiel, and awchangel of the Lord.”

            Archie stood there, watching them with a confused and slightly disturbed expression on his face. Gabriel had a hard time keeping himself from laughing. “Okay, I think I’m just going to call—” before he could finish, Gabriel had touched two fingers to his forehead. Archie slumped to the ground, unconscious.

            “Okay, Sammy,” Gabriel said, smiling. He looked at his hunter, feeling proud of himself. “Dig in!”

 

**********

 

            When Dean and Cas returned to the bunker, everything appeared to be in order. It wasn’t falling down, nor was it on fire. There wasn’t a horde of demons swarming it. There wasn’t an army of angels coming after Gabriel because of some stupid prank. Everything seemed normal. Dean found that very refreshing, but Castiel knew better. He could tell that something was off. He should have been at least able to hear Gabriel talking, or moving around inside. He should have been able to sense his older brother’s grace.

            But he couldn’t.

            And the inside of the bunker was uneasily silent.

            As the pair entered the bunker, Dean finally began to realize that something was wrong. “Sammy?” he called, setting the bags of groceries on the kitchen counter. “Gabriel?” Dean began to search the bunker, checking in every possible location. Castiel took flight and looked for them in the surrounding area.

            They came up with nothing.

            Dean began to panic. He called all of Sam’s phones, and Gabriel’s phone, even though he knew it was unlikely they’d brought them alone. Then, he called Bobby, Garth, Kevin, Jody Mills – anyone he thought could help search for them.

            Castiel watched his boyfriend worriedly, hugging onto his leg extra tightly. “It’ll be okay, Dean,” the little angel tried to assure. “We’ll find them. And Gabriel will protect Sam.”

            Dean didn’t answer Cas, he just kept muttering, “I’m gonna kill them. When I find them, I’m gonna kill them. Then, I’ll call Crowley and bring them back to life and kill them again!”


	11. The Adventures of Sabriel, Part 2

            “Having fun?” Gabriel asked. The angel and the human moose now sat in the back of a public bus. They were about twenty miles away from the candy store, and even farther from the bunker. Gabriel, having studied the maps of the bus routes, knew that this particular bus should take them out west somewhere, Colorado if he remembered correctly. The archangel was still getting used to the agonizingly slow pace of public transportation, but he knew that Sam greatly preferred this method of travel.

            Sam sat in the archangel’s lap, looking outside at the flashing landscape. He nodded good-naturedly in response to Gabriel’s question. “Yeah, this is . . . surprisingly fun. But Dean is gonna kill us.”

            “Not if he can’t find us,” Gabriel replied. Even though he had deliberately left a sloppy trail behind for Dean to sniff, he didn’t really want Dean and Cas to catch up just yet. He wasn’t ready to stop goofing off and having fun with Sam yet.

            Sam shook his head. “Oh, he’ll find us,” he assured. “Have you paid any attention to how my brother is?”

            Gabriel kissed the top of Sam’s head. “You worry too much, Samsquatch.”

            The hunter let out a small giggle when the archangel’s lips brushed his skin. He hadn’t felt that in a long time – the “tingly” feeling in his gut that made him smile. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed his angel.

            Gabriel sensed Sam’s rush of happiness and glanced down at him. “What?” he prompted. When Sam didn’t reply, Gabriel got a devious smirk on his face. “Did you like that, Sam?”

            Sam nodded, almost sheepishly. Gabriel’s smirk intensified, and he began to pepper his beloved human with sloppy kisses. Giggling and squirming uncontrollably, Sam playfully tried to swat Gabriel’s advances away. “What?” Gabriel purred, his voice also on the edge of a laugh. “C’mon, Samsquatch! Let me love you!”

            Then, Gabriel began to tickle Sam’s sides and underarms. The little Sam could hardly take it, and was now squealing with laughter. Despite the fact that the pair was earning bizarre glances from the other passengers, Gabriel determined that this little vacation was one of – if not the – best ideas he’s ever had.

 

**********

 

            The bus stopped in Pueblo, Colorado. This particular part of Colorado was in fact new to Gabriel. In all his years on Earth, it was actually astonishing how many places Gabriel hadn’t been. Of course, he’d been anywhere interesting, important, fun, historic, etc. but he tended to glance over some of the smaller, less notable things. And this city happened to be one of them.

            The bus driver said that they were taking an hour-long break for lunch and then the ride to Denver would resume. Gabriel carried Sam off the bus and the two of them began to explore the city. It was during their exploration that they came across a park. Gabriel didn’t bother to learn the name of it, but what really caught his eye was the grand fountain erected in the center. Without consulting Sam, Gabriel took them over to the fountain and set his human companion down on a bench just across from it.

            “Gabwiel, what are we doing?” Sam asked bad-temperedly. “I was twying to wead the sign owerthere.”

            The archangel smirked and pulled his shirt over his head. “We, Sammy, are going skinny dipping.”

            Sam just stared at Gabriel in a stunned silence. When Sam did not immediately respond, Gabriel continued to strip, tugging down his shorts and underwear. Sam sat on the bench and stared. He couldn’t even formulate words anymore. All he could think was, _Gabe, what the fuck are you doing?_

            “C’mon, Sammy,” Gabriel said, going over to the little human. “I’ll help you.”

            Sam began to fight against him, trying to swat away Gabriel’s hands. “Stop! We awre in public, Gabwiel!”

            “Oh come on,” Gabriel groaned. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before. Once we get in the water, no one will see you.”

            “Bull,” Sam grumbled, glowering fiercely at the archangel. “I am not getting naked and going swimming with you.”

            Gabriel rolled his eyes. This was not going as planned. “Sammy, when have I ever led you wrong?”

            Sam’s bitch-face intensified. “Tuesday? Remember that?” he growled.

            The archangel winced. Why did Sam have to bring _that_ up?

            “And then thewre was TV Land. You gave me HEWRPES!” Sam shouted. “So, yeah, I’d say you’ve led me wrong a few times!”

            “The Herpes thing was a joke, and I got rid of it at the end,” Gabriel defended.

            “Everything is a joke to you, Gabweil,” Sam snapped. “And not everything is funny.”

            Gabriel straightened up then, his face suddenly becoming very serious. “Sam . . . c’mon . . . dont’ be like that. We were having fun until you had to go and remind yourself of the past.”

            Sam continued to glare. “If you want to skinny dip, go ahead. I won’t be joining you.”

            Gabriel frowned. He sat down on the bench next to his human and took Sam’s very tiny hand in his. “I don’t want to. It’s no fun without my little moose.”

            Sam didn’t say anything at first. He noticed that a few people were staring at the still very naked Gabriel. A smile was beginning to tug at his lips. _You can’t take the trick out of the trickster . . . even if the trickster turns out to be an archangel,_ he thought. Then, he began to feel bad. He shouldn’t have been so hard on his angel – after all, Gabriel was just trying to have a good time and make Sam happy.

            With a new resolve, Sam began to strip. He pulled his shirt over his head, and then tried to tug down his shorts. Gabriel watched him with a tiny smirk and assisted Sam as he stripped down to his birthday suit. Once their clothes were deposited on the ground near the bench, the archangel climbed into the fountain, carrying Sam in his arms. Sam could feel the appalled and disgusted eyes of the spectators on him, and had to smile. He heard the whispers too.

            “Where are their parents?”

            “This is unacceptable.”

            “If those were my children . . .”

            While Gabriel splashed and pranced around in the chilly fountain water, someone in the crowd must have called a cop. About ten minutes after they began their leisurely swim – and Sam had been dunked under the water twice by a mischievous Gabriel – a police officer showed up. Gabriel and Sam had a good time laughing at him as he tried – unsuccessfully, I might add – to apprehend the two children. Evading the cop was all too easy for Gabriel; every time he got too close, the angel would just dance out of reach.

            Gabriel made sure to note that Sam hadn’t stopped giggling since they’d gotten in the fountain. _He plays hard to get, and is too stubborn to admit it, but I have great ideas,_ he thought with a satisfied grin.

            It wasn’t long after this thought crossed his mind that the cop began to get rather pissed. Gabriel didn’t know how long the cop had participated in the bizarre dance they’d created, but he was now fed up with it. As he began to climb into the fountain after them, Gabriel slowed to a halt. “Well, Sammy,” he said, unable to keep the joy out of his voice. “Looks like it’s time to go.” Gabriel snapped his fingers, and their scenery changed. Their clothes returned to their bodies, they were completely dry, and they were out of the fountain but . . . something was wrong.

            Gabriel had meant to send them to Los Angeles so they could spy on two actors named Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles . . . but they weren’t in Hollywood. Wherever they were, it was dark, and it smelled damp and musty. Sam was completely in the dark (in more ways than one) but Gabriel could faintly make out their surroundings, and judging by the size, shape, and openness of the room they were in, he determined that they were in some kind of warehouse.

            Sam looked around in confusion, his little nose wrinkling at the smell. “Gabe . . . why’d you take us hewre?”

            Gabriel stiffened. Something was very wrong, but he had no idea what. He snapped his fingers again, trying to teleport out, but he couldn’t. His powers seemed to be useless here. Whatever this place was, it was warded against him.

            “Sam . . .” he began, but was cut off by another, familiar voice.

            “Well, well, well,” the slick, silvery voice chuckled. Adrenaline began to pulse through Gabriel’s vessel - an act that signified fear. His vessel was frightened – it was getting ready to either fight or flee. Gabriel felt nervous – he felt his stomach clench with fear’s icy grip. He knew that voice better than anyone.

            He turned in the direction of the voice, and saw a dark, shadowy figure standing there, watching him. “Lucifer,” Gabriel greeted. His voice was dark, biting, and unforgiving. He held Sam closer to him. He loved his brother, but he would never forgive what he did. Rebelling and corrupting humanity – Gabriel might have gotten over that one, but trying to kill him, and driving Sam almost to the point of madness . . . That he could never forgive.

            “What are you doing back on earth, brother?” Gabriel inquired. “I thought you were locked in the cage, keeping Michael all warm and toasty?”

            “He was,” a new, deeper voice replied. Gabriel gulped, now truly afraid. Another dark figure stepped up beside Lucifer. As Gabriel’s eyes adjusted to the light, he could make out their appearances –Lucifer had returned to his original vessel – Nick – and Michael was back in Adam Milligan, Sam’s younger half-brother. But there was no mistaking it. It was his big brothers; Gabriel could see their magnificent true forms. Michael and Lucifer. In the flesh. And for once, they weren’t clawing at each other’s throats. That was a new one.

            “Oh . . . hey guys,” Gabriel said with a nervous laugh. Why were they here? Did they seek revenge? Were they really still pissed off about the apocalypse thing? Or maybe it was about him skipping out on Heaven?       

            Lucifer narrowed his eyes and watched his little brother closely, studying him. “Gabriel . . . what on earth happened to your vessel? I thought we all agreed that taking children for vessels was useless – it’s not like they’re good for much . . . and . . . Is that . . . ? Sam? Sam Winchester?”

            Sam winced at the sound of his name and squirmed closer to Gabriel. He didn’t say a word. Gabriel could feel his tiny body shaking. Was he having flashbacks? Flashbacks from his time in the cage? Flashbacks from the time Lucifer had possessed him?

            “You leave him alone, Lucifer,” Gabriel growled. “I swear if you try to do anything to Sam, I’ll—”

            “Put your angel blade away, brother,” Lucifer tried to soothe. “I was just confused. Why are you and Sam . . . human children?”

            “Ask Crowley,” Gabriel snapped back. “He’s one of yours, after all.”

            Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Gabriel, you wound me. Not all demons belong to me, you know. Demons have evolved to be free creatures – independent . . . Angels never were like that – they always wanted orders . . . they wanted Father back. Well, we are going to change the angels, Gabriel. You, Michael and I – hell, even Castiel – we know independence now. We know freedom, and we can use it to help all the angels. We can give them a better life.”

            Gabriel just stared at his older brother. He . . . can’t be serious. “And you?” he asked, looking at Michael. “You’re okay with this?”

            Michael’s face was stony – emotionless. “I learned a lot in the cage, Gabriel. I learned . . . that Father left because he wanted to. Not because you or Lucifer drove him away. Father . . . gave up on us because we were not the creatures we wanted him to be. But if we work together again – if we create a new, better Heaven . . . Father might come back. But first, you need to come back, Gabriel. You have to help us.”

            The younger angel stood there, his grip on Sam tightening, as if he feared that Sam would disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. “No. I am not going back to Heaven.”

            “Gabriel, the angels are in turmoil. After Raphael was killed, Castiel appointed himself God, and then . . . Naomi and . . . then what Metatron did to our brethren . . . We have to go back – rebuild Heaven. But we cannot do it alone. We need you too, Gabriel. It’s time to go home – you aren’t a child anymore. You need to take responsibility,” Michael said.

            Lucifer nodded in agreement. “It’s time to grow up, brother. Accept who you are – be the angel Father wanted you to be.”

            “No,” Gabriel said again. “Michael . . . you’re the one who always says that Father has a plan - that we’re on a set path . . . Well, this is my path. This is what I want – to be with Sam, Dean, and Castiel. I want to live on earth with the people I love.”

            Lucifer’s face softened slightly, and he got a pitiful look in his eyes. “Do you not love us, brother?” he queried. “Do you know want to be with us?”

            Gabriel looked distressed. His eyes drifted down to Sam, and he immediately loosened up. Sam hadn’t spoken; he didn’t need to. Gabriel saw that unconditional and undying love in the hunter’s eyes. Sam would love and support him no matter what. “Michael . . . Lucifer . . . I love you - I do. You’re my older brothers . . . You two practically raised me, and . . . I will never, ever forget that. But, I love Sam Winchester, and I love Dean and Cas as my brothers . . . I won’t leave my new family for anything . . . I’m sorry, but this is my decision.”

            Lucifer exchanged a look with Michael, and for a moment – just a moment – Gabriel thought that he’d won. He’d convinced them . . . Then Michael started talking. “I am sorry too, Gabriel,” he murmured. At least he sounded genuinely remorseful. “But you must come with us.”

            “Brother, perhaps we should—”

            “No, Lucifer!” Michael snapped. “You know that we need Gabriel to do this. There is no room for discussion.”

            Lucifer’s eyes narrowed dangerously; Gabriel had seen that look before – he’d seen it all too often pre-fall. That was the look Lucifer gave Michael when he was pissed, when he was beginning to get tired of his older brother’s massive ego. Before the younger angel could even make a remark, Michael snapped his fingers, and they were gone.

            All of them.

            Except one.

            Little Sammy remained, looking around in confusion. “Gabwiel?” he called, even though he knew it was futile. His angel was long gone . . . Those dicks – Michael and Lucifer . . . they had taken his Gabriel away. And now, utterly alone without any means of contacting Dean or Cas, Sam sat there on the warehouse floor and cried.


	12. Road Trip with the King

            “Hello, boys,” Crowley said as he appeared in the cheap motel room Dean and Cas were currently staying in. “So nice of you to call me—” he paused and glanced down at the Devil’s Trap he now stood in. He let out a tired sigh. “Is this _really_ necessary? Don’t you trust me?”

            “You turned my brother, my boyfriend, and Gabriel into children,” Dean pointed out. “So no, I don’t _trust_ you.”

            Crowley didn’t miss a beat. “Where is Moose, by the way?” When Dean didn’t answer, Crowley smirked. “Oh, is that why I’m here? You need _my_ help? Well, brilliant start, I must say – trapping me. Very wise.”

            Dean gritted his teeth, but said nothing in response. Cas just glared at the demon. The little angel wished that they didn’t have to involve him, but Cas found himself unable to. He had been able to track them to a little town in Colorado, but it was there that the trail went cold.

            “Besides,” Crowley continued, folding his arms across his chest and shifting his weight to one side. His hip jutted outward, making him look like the physical embodiment of sass. “What makes you think I’d help you?”

            “Because Cas will smite you if you refuse,” Dean answered swiftly. Crowley’s eyes drifted to the little angel. He found it odd that a three-year-old could still manage to look intimidating . . . or perhaps the angel inside was leaking out a bit more than usual.

            “Fine, but why can’t Louise find him?” he asked, motioning to Castiel as he spoke.

            Cas sighed. “Gabriel warded them somehow – made it so I cannot locate them easily. We had to follow a trail they left – a very blatant one, to be honest. But yesterday the trail completely disappeared. We don’t know what to do from here.”

            Crowley stared at them as if they’d gone mad. “So, you think that if an _angel_ can’t find the archangel dropout and the Moose, a _demon_ can?! Do you not see anything _wrong_ with that plan?!”

            Dean and Cas exchanged an exasperated look. Then, the older Winchester looked at the king. “Well . . . you’re all we got. And, as much as it kills me to say this, you aren’t exactly an _ordinary_ demon. You’re the King of Hell.”

            Crowley smirked slightly. “Aw, Squirrel,” he said softly. “You’re precious! I do love it when people flatter and beg me.”

            The hunter pursed his lips. If Sam’s life wasn’t on the line, he would have killed this smarmy son of a bitch already. “Are you gonna help us or not?” he snarled, glowering at Crowley fiercely.

            The demon pondered this idea for a moment before shrugging. “Fine. I’ll help, but _I_ get to ride shotgun in the Impala.”

            “NO!” Dean and Cas shouted in unison.

            “Absolutely not,” Dean added a second later, looking just a bit sheepish.

            “Do you want my help or not, Squirrel?” Crowley prompted with a pointed look. He arched a single eyebrow, as if he were daring them to say no.

            Dean looked down at Cas, wearing a disgusted look. He then glanced back up at the king, looking even angrier than before. He let out a disgruntled but defeated sigh and closed his eyes. “Whatever.”

            Crowley smirked. “Woo! Road trip!”

            Dean rolled his eyes with Cas continued to glower. Dean turned his back on the demon. _This might just be my worst idea yet,_ he thought, heading toward the door of the motel room.

           

**********

 

            Driving with Crowley was something that Dean had never wanted to experience. And with good reason. Crowley was . . . well . . . whiny. He constantly complained during the ride. He didn’t like Dean’s choice of music. Dean blasted it too loud. Dean drove like a PMSing, emotionally compromised teenage girl that had a cellphone to her ear ninety percent of the time. And, God forbid Crowley saw the fuel gage.

            “Dean.”

            The hunter ignored him, but gripped the steering wheel tighter.

            “Dean.”

            Crowley’ voice was more than grating.           

            “Dean.”

            _Don’t do it,_ Dean thought grumpily. _Don’t give him the satisfaction._

            “Dean.”

            “JUST ANSWER HIM!” Cas shouted from the backseat. “DO IT BEFORE I SMITE HIM!”

            “ _What?!_ ” Dean snarled at the demon. He risked a glance in the rearview mirror to see Cas glaring at them both. _Great, now Cas is pissed._ “What could you _possibly_ have to say now?!”

            Crowley looked like offended. “We’re almost out of gas.”

            Dean glanced at the fuel gage – they had about a half a quarter of a tank left. He sighed. The arrow _was_ almost on the red section, but they still had enough for a while. “We’re fine,” he grumbled.

            “Dean, what if we run out?” Crowley asked.

            The hunter gritted his teeth together. “We’re _fine_ , Crowley.”

            “But Dean, we’re in a strange place. We don’t know where we are – what if we run out and get stranded in the middle of nowhere?” Crowley queried.

            “Then either you or Cas can use your mojo to _go get us some gas_ ,” Dean snapped. “It really is not that big of a deal.”

            “But—”

            Dean turned up the radio until it drowned out Crowley’s voice. “Separate Ways” by Journey blared through the Imapla’s speakers as Dean drove on. He let out an angry sigh through his nose. He couldn’t believe it. Sam was out there somewhere, alone. And here he was having a road trip with a baby angel, and the King of Hell! He stepped on the gas. _I’m comin’, Sammy._ He sped up to 70 mph.

            “DEAN!” Crowley shouted over the 80s song. “IT’S ONLY 55 HERE!”

            The hunter accelerated to 75 mph.

            “Dean!” Cas entered the conversation, having to scream over Steve Perry’s voice. “Maybe you should slow—“

            A car peeled out of a parking lot on the road behind them. A loud siren erupted from the rear, and Dean spied flashing lights behind them. “Shit,” he grumbled. He turned down the radio and pulled over to the side of the road. They were on some deserted state route that was rarely used since the highways had been built. The only ones on the road were Dean and his companions and the cop that pulled them over.

            “I hate to say I told you so,” Crowley began smugly.

            “Then don’t,” Dean muttered in response. “Get the registration out of the glovebox, would ya?”

            “Dean—” Cas’s voice drifted in from the backseat.

            “Not now, Cas.”

            “Dean, I don’t have a car seat.”

            “Huh?”

            “I’m technically a toddler. I’m supposed to be in some kind of car seat, and I don’t have—”

            “Poof one up then!” Dean snapped. “The last thing I need is for social services to take you away!”

            Cas looked distressed. “Wait, they’ll do what?! Dean, I’m not Gabriel. I don’t have his powers – I cannot create things out of thin air!”

            Dean swore and took out his wallet. Hopefully the cop wouldn’t comment. “Just . . .  put your seatbelt on and be quiet, okay? If he asks say you’re . . . like five or something.”

            Crowley was watching the human with a slightly confused look. “You know . . . you don’t have to do that?”

            Now it was Dean’s turn to look confused. “What?”

            “C’mon! Use that brain of yours – however small it may be. You’re in the car with an angel and the King of Hell! Let me handle this.”

            As the cop approached the Impala, Dean watched open-mouthed as Crowley opened the door and slid out of the passenger’s seat. Crowley confidently strode toward the cop, smoothing the fabric of his suit as if to look more presentable.

            “Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to please get back in your vehicle,” the cop said. Cas was standing up in the backseat now, watching the scene unfold. Dean was looking in his mirrors, wondering what exactly Crowley was up to. All he hoped is that he didn’t have to hide a body when this was all said and done.

            “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Crowley replied, shrugging his shoulders. “See . . . you were never here, understand?”

            At first, the cop was very quiet. “Sir—” Without warning, Crowley had gripped the police officer by the throat. Dean silently thanked God that there was no one else on the road.

            Crowley looked into the man’s eyes. “Show me what you know,” he commanded. Dean watched with wide eyes as red smoke billowed from the demon’s mouth and entered the cop’s. The cop’s eyes flashed crimson for a brief moment before the red smoke returned to Crowley’s body. The cop then fell to the ground, limp.

            When Crowley re-entered the car, Dean and Cas were both looking at him, clearly expecting some kind of explanation. Only once Crowley was comfortably seated and wearing his seatbelt did he speak. “Turns out our little friend back there saw our two runaways.”

            “Where?” Dean snapped, feeling a rush of hope. Perhaps this wasn’t so bad – at least they’d found _something_.

            “Back in Pueblo, Colorado,” Crowley relayed. “He was chasing the angel-dropout around a fountain. He and Moose were skinny dipping.”

            Dean grimaced as an image he never wanted to see appeared in his mind. Cas just let out an irritated sigh. “That doesn’t exactly help us.”

            “Don’t get your feathers ruffled, Wings,” Crowley urged. “He remembered them suddenly disappearing – just vanished into thin air. And, just before our _driver_ – if you could even call him that, his driving skills are so _deplorable_ —”

            “You know what, Crowley?”

            “Shut up, Dean, I’m trying to listen!” Cas growled, cutting off his human. “Shush!”

            Crowley smirked before continuing. “Just before our driver distracted him, he’d heard a call come in on the police scanner – a report of a crying baby. Apparently the noise was coming from an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town. Just before we _sped_ by our friendly neighborhood policeman reported that he would respond the call.”

            “So, we’ll take his place,” Dean said simply. The Impala’s engine roared to life and they peeled out onto the road. “Did you happen to get the address, Crowley?”

            The king gave him a half-offended, half-disgusted look. Journey no longer played on the radio; instead an Eric Clapton song was on. Crowley’s eyes were on the speedometer as Dean accelerated back to 70 mph. “Of course I did,” he grumbled, staring out the window unhappily. “I’m not _just_ a pretty face, you know . . . Now would you _please_ slow down?!”


	13. A Reunion of Brothers

            Thanks to Crowley’s directions, Dean’s impeccable driving skills, and Cas’s inhuman hearing abilities, it didn’t take long for the trio of Earth-Heaven-Hell reps to find little Sammy in the abandoned warehouse. Dean rushed to Sam’s side and held him tightly in his arms while the younger Winchester sobbed. It was only once they all got back to the Impala and got in did Sam calm down enough to speak.

            “D- D- Dean!” Sam wailed, tears streaming down his already glistening cheeks.

            Dean, still cradling his baby brother in his arms, did his best to try and soothe him. “It’s okay, Sammy. You’re okay. I’ve got ya.”

            “NO!” Sam insisted with a sniffle. “N- no, it’s not! Gabwiel!” he was nearly screaming now. “I WANT MY GABWIEL!”

            Dean silently vowed to kick Gabriel’s holy ass later. Where was he? Why did he leave Sam alone? “Where is Gabriel?” Cas asked from the back seat. Dean glanced over his shoulder at the tiny angel; he looked a little uncomfortable with the sobbing baby. Usually whenever Sam cried, Cas could leave the room or simply teleport somewhere else, but now he was stuck there.

            Sam began to whimper again. “L- Lu - L-”

            “Spit it out!” Crowley snapped. “And stop your crying! You’re giving me a headache.”

            Dean looked at the demon with cold, unrelenting eyes. He felt a twinge of annoyance that the demon was even still there. “Why are you even still here?” he barked sharply.

            Crowley thought about this question for a moment. “You know, that’s a brilliant question,” he said after a few moments. However, before Crowley could disappear, Cas put a hand on his shoulder.

            “Wait. Crowley, you might still be of use to us.”

            The King let out an irritated sigh. “Fan-bloody-tastic.”

            “Lucifer,” Sam finally whispered when the demon and angel had finished their exchange. “Dean it was Lucifewr! H- he was there! With Michael” With each word his voice became more and more unhinged until he was back into the mangled sobbing sound he’d been making before. “They got out of cage an- and they TOOK MY GABWIEL AWAAAYYYY!!!!”

            Dean patted Sam’s back and just held him tighter as his little brother’s tears soaked through his dark green jacket. Cas had sat back in seat and looked more worried than Dean had ever seen him. “This is bad,” the angel whispered to himself. “Michael and Lucifer walk the Earth once more . . . This is very bad! Dean—”

            The human raised a hand to stop Cas. Cas didn’t miss the look of new resolve on his partner’s face. There was a grim determination – a sense of purpose now lurking in those evergreen eyes. “Sammy,” he said, his deep voice soft and a little husky. “Don’t you worry, you hear? We’ve beaten those sons of bitches before and we can do it again. We’ll get Gabriel back, and we’ll send those two dicks back to the cage where they belong.”

            Crowley, who had been silent, now looked very pale. “I . . . second that,” he said quickly. “Lucifer . . . if he’s back – truly back – then it’s only a matter of time before he comes for Hell. And I’ll . . .”

            “Die in a millisecond?” Dean offered.

            The demon pursed his lips together in defeat. “Most likely.” He looked at the Winchester brothers with tired, but earnest eyes. “Whatever you need me to do – consider me . . .” he sighed. Dean secretly relished the moment; the King of Hell was pledging his loyalty to them. Crowley swallowed. He seemed to be having a hard time saying the next words. “At your disposal.”

 

**********

 

            “We don’t want to keep you in here,” Lucifer said.

            “We really don’t,” said Michael.

            “We’ll let you out,” they said.

            “We promise,” they said.

            _And that was a load of bullshit,_ Gabriel thought. Thanks to his big brothers, he was now locked in Heaven’s dungeon like he was some kind of public enemy. He wasn an archangel! He didn’t deserve to be treated like this. But Gabriel knew that Michael and Lucifer wouldn’t let him out until he swore allegiance; until he agreed to be their little bitch and take up his old torch as Father’s Messenger again.

            Gabriel put his head in his hands. Even in Heaven’s Crowley’s spell still had an effect. He still looked like a five-year-old, except now he was a five-year-old in a prison cell. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry even though there was a part of his young body that wanted to. He thought of Sam all alone in that warehouse and sent a silent prayer to his Father. He asked – begged – that Dean and Castiel figured it out – that they found him before . . .

            The next thing the archangel knew, hot tears were streaming down his face. The thought of Sam, terrified, unable to take care of himself, and all alone made him physically hurt. If Sam died because of this . . . Gabriel thought that he would get a surge of hatred for his brothers, but he didn’t. Instead, the was filled with self-loathing.

            _You’re a screw-up_

_You always have been._

_Worthless._

_An embarassment._

_God’s biggest mistake._

_Worse than Lucifer._

_Coward._

_Your fault._

_All your fault._

_You don’t deserve Sam._

_And now he might die because of you and your games._

_You never think._

_You just do._

_That’s why Father left._

_Because you broke his heart._

_All your fault._

            “Hey, could you shut up?” a sharp, barby voice growled .

            Gabriel looked up to see an older man standing in the cell across from him. He had short, curly cray hair and a messy go-Tee. He glowered at Gabriel with hard, mean, beady eyes. But Gabriel recognized him at once, and he could not believe his eyes. “Metatron?”

            “Don’t humor him, or he’ll never stop talking,” another voice advised. Gabriel saw a man about Dean’s age step into view. He was in the cell next to Metatron, and more forlorn – more tired. It was clear that he’d been here longer. His hair was short and blond, and his eyes looked almost as blue as Castiel’s. Gabriel knew him too. He had been one of the angels Gabriel had reared.

            One of the archangel’s jobs was to raise and train the younger angels. All of the archangels had a bond with those they looked after. They would know these angels anywhere as if they were their own offspring. Gabriel knew this one just as well as he knew Castiel and Balthazar – two other angels he had looked after. Gabriel suddenly came to the realization that most of the angels he reared turned out rebellious, or they were the ones that constantly screwed up. _The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree._

            “Gadreel,” Gabriel greeted the new angel. His chest tightened at the name alone. He hadn’t seen Gadreel for a centuries – not since he was imprisoned for letting Lucifer enter the Garden to corrupt Adam and Eve.

            Gadreel peered at Gabriel in confusion for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was full of wonder. “Gabriel?” Gadreel looked as if he was torn between being pleased and overjoyed by this, or remorseful and worried about this situation. Even Metatron looked stunned. “Brother, is that you?”

            “Don’t you recognize me?” Gabriel replied swiftly. The teasing remark was forced, and while the tears were beginning to dry, his voice still cracked.

            “No, brother . . .” Gadreel said in awe. “You – even in your true form – look like a fledgling!”

            Gabriel winced. _Well, that’s embarrassing._ Lucifer, always in jest, had remarked that Gabriel had been a bizarre-looking fledgling. He went on to say that he, Michael, and Raphael all thought something had gone wrong when their Father made Gabriel – that he’d made a mistake somewhere along the line.

            _Mistake._

            “What’s wrong with you?” Metatron queried. “How is that you look like a fledgling, and how is it that the only surviving _free_ archangel has ended up in Heaven’s dungeon?” There was a hint of challenge in Metatron’s voice and Gabriel knew why. He hated Gabriel and his older brothers; hated them with a passion. He viewed them as a bunch of ignorant soldiers that knew only how to fight. Gabriel wouldn’t have disliked the guy – hell, Gabriel tried to be friends with anyone who gave him the time of day – if he wasn’t such a judgmental, arrogant dick-bag.

            “Why is the Scribe of God in Heaven’s dungeon, Metatron?” Gabriel shot back. “I know that _I_ didn’t take over Heaven . . . and _lost._ To a soldier no less.” He threw in that last part for extra effect – he knew that it would eat Metatron up inside.

            Gadreel gave his older brother a pleased grin while Metatron looked downright offended. “I tried to _fix_ Heaven! After you and your brothers and their pissing contest, and after Castiel destroyed almost forty percent of our population, they needed a new leader! And I was there! I took charge – I took initiative!”

            “And you made them fall – yeah, good plan,” Gabriel muttered. He rolled his eyes. Metatron never wanted to fix Heaven. He never wanted to improve how it ran. He wanted power, and Gabriel knew damn well that was the truth. “You know why I’m here, Metatron? Because Mike and Luci are back. And guess what. When they hear what you did to the angels – their family – and how you made them fall – when you _took away their wings out of spite_ ,” Gabriel paused to let out a dark chuckle. “Well, let’s just say that they won’t be too pleased. Just wait until they find out. I wonder who will be more pissed . . . Luci will be super-mega-ultra pissed, but Michael – I think he’ll put the rage of Satan himself to shame.”

            Metatron had gotten dead-silent. Gabriel couldn’t help but smirk. _That certainly shut up him,_ he thought, satisfied.

            “They escaped the cage?” Gadreel asked. “How? The seals have to be broken . . . don’t they?”        Gabriel shrugged. He didn’t know. Gadreel was correct: their Father had built the cage with the seals so Lucifer could not easily be freed. After Sam killed Lilith – the first demon and final seal – it should have been impossible for the cage to be opened. The only beings that could freely enter and leave the cage were their Father and Death himself. If Lucifer and Michael were released, it must have been by one of them – someone who could open the cage at will.

            _Maybe Dad—_ Gabriel stopped before he finished that thought. It was hopeless. After God had left, Gabriel had looked for him everywhere. He’d gone to every corner of the Earth, every place in the galaxy, anywhere that he could think of, and God had wasn’t there. He’d abandoned his children. He left them confused and alone, and that was something Gabriel didn’t know if he could ever forgive. But, if God _was_ back – if he’d returned to release his eldest sons from the cage . . . then what did that mean? What test was he orchestrating now?

            “What are they planning?” Metatron squawked. His voice had risen in pitch just in fear at the thought of Michael and Lucifer coming to get revenge. “Start the apocalypse again? Duke it out on Earth and kill countless innocents?”

            “They said they were going to fix Heaven – make it what Dad always wanted it to be. They wanted me to . . . come home and be the messenger of God again, but . . . They think that if they . . . do what they were supposed to be doing all along that Dad might come back . . .”

            “First of all,” Metatron began, eliciting a groan from Gadreel. “They think _they_ can fix Heaven? Raphael tried that. Castiel tried that. _I_ tried that! Heaven is broken! It’s a lost cause! And you know what? I don’t think it _wants_ to get better. If it did, someone would have successfully restored order by now. Someone would have _fixed_ it.”

            Gabriel let out an irritated sigh. “You’re preachin’ to the choir. I gave up on home long ago.”

            Metatron ignored Gabriel’s statement, and continued. “Second, nothing is going to bring God back. He saw what we were – how dependent, how weak, how _stupid_ we were, and he left us! He didn’t want to deal with us anymore. So if those archangels want to put Heaven through its fourth rehab, they’re welcome o it, but it’s not going to work. God won’t come back. We had our chance – _chances_ actually – and we failed every single one of them. Lucifer. Gadreel. You, Gabriel—”

            “We did nothing,” Gadreel suddenly intervened. “Father left us as a test – he wanted to see if we could function without him. When we finally succeed and pass that test, he’ll come back t us.”

            Metatron snorted, but Gabriel smiled ruefully. “You have strong faith, brother,” he remarked. “But faith isn’t enough.”

            “I know he’ll come back,” Gadreel insisted. “I know he will.”

            Gabriel pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on top of them. His mind once more drifted back to Sam. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. _Dad, let this call get through. Please . . . for Sam’s sake . . . Cassie? Can you hear me? Do you read, over?_

            There were a few moment of silence on angel radio before Castiel’s voice echoed in the archangel’s mind.

            _Gabriel?_


	14. The Boss is Back in Town

              _Cassie, look you gotta get me outta here,_ Gabriel silently pleaded with his younger brother. Castiel didn’t respond immediately – there were some mumbled thoughts that he was mulling over, a few voices resounding in the message. It was background noise really, like any other “phone call” only this time the annoying undertones were just Castiel’s other thoughts coming and going.

            At long last, Castiel’s answer came loud and clear. _Sam is worried sick about you._ Those words were like an angel blade plunging into Gabriel’s heart. Sammy. His poor Sammy.

            _You found him?_ When Castiel replied in the affirmative, Gabriel went on: _Tell him that I am so,_ so _sorry. I didn’t want to leave – I never would have left if I had a choice. And tell him that I’m okay and that . . . that I love that stupid moose._

            There was a peel of laughter in Castiel’s head. _Gabriel, you try to hide it, but you really_ are _a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?_

            _If I were you, I’d shut your pie-hole, Cassie, before I smite you._

            _I won’t tell Dean, but I’ll make sure Sam knows,_ was Cas’s reply. _Where are you?_

            _Heaven’s dungeon with Gadreel and Metatron,_ Gabriel answered disdainfully. _And yes, it’s just as awful as it sounds. Michael and Lucifer locked me in here – they think that I—_ His message came to an abrupt halt as he heard footsteps coming down the hallway toward him. He immediately shut off his angel radio so whoever entered wouldn’t get an earful of what he and Cas had been talking about. He sat up in his cell as Lucifer came into view. The archangel had a blank expression on his face; it was almost _too_ blank, as if he’d just witnessed something traumatizing.

            “Luci?” Gabriel called. It was not common for Lucifer to behave in such a way. It kind of frightened him. “You okay?” He got to his feet although it didn’t make much of a difference where his height was concerned. “Did . . . something happen?” He noticed Metatron standing at the bars of his own cell, watching the scene with attentive eyes. Gadreel, while significantly _less_ interested was still looking up with curiosity.

            Lucifer looked at his younger brother, a strange look on his face – the kind of look someone gets when they’ve “seen the light.” A smile crept onto his face. “Brothers,” he said, turning to look at Gadreel and Metatron as well. “You will not believe what has just occurred.”

            “What?” Metatron asked, impatient.

            Lucifer’s smile widened and a hopeful, bright light appeared in his icy-blue eyes. “Our Father has returned to us! God has finally returned to Heaven. He’s come home.”

 

**********

 

            _GABRIEL?!_ Castiel’s voice shouted into the void. Just a few moments before, he’d been having a conversation with his older brother, and then the line just seemed to go dead. He sat in the library of the bunker and appeared to be staring at the floor. After they found Sam, Dean had insisted on taking him back to the bunker for a brief recovery. Crowley accompanied them, saying he didn’t want anything bad to happen to them now that their archangel was gone and Castiel was their only source of protection. However, it was clear that the only reason the King of Hell stuck around was because he was afraid that if he returned to his kingdom, he might bump into the Big Boss.

            Castiel was alone in the library. Dean was probably off trying to soothe Sam and Crowley was most likely snooping around through the Men of Letters’ belongings. No one had been there to witness his mental conversation with Gabriel. _I need to tell them what happened,_ he thought with resolve, sliding off the comfy green chair he’d been sitting on. He rushed to Dean’s room and found him, just as he suspected, babying Sam. “Dean! Sam! You won’t believe who I just talked to!”

            They both looked over at him. Sam’s blue-green eyes were wide and hopeful while Dean’s were skeptical. “Who, Cas?” he inquired softly.

            “Gabriel,” Cas blurted out. “He contacted me via Angel Radio and told me that he is in Heaven’s dungeon and that Michael and Lucifer are keeping him there.”

            Dean nodded slowly. “Okay, well . . . That means we’ve got to find a way to get into Heaven and bust Gabe out.”

            “Did he say anything else?” Sam asked quietly.

            Cas nodded with a smile. “He asked me to tell you, and I quote: ‘tell him I’m okay, and that I love that stupid moose.’”

            A wide smile spread across Sam’s face and for the first time since his angel’s disappearance, he felt content. “We have to find Crowley and then get to Heaven. Cas, do you know how to get in?”

            The angel nodded slowly. “I can get in easily, but you two . . . and the _demon_ might be a little difficult.” His voice deepened and got darker at the mention of Crowley. “An angel can enter Hell easily – it is uncomfortable, but definitely doable. I don’t think anyone has been _daft_ enough to try to get a demon into Heaven. For all we know, Crowley might be burned alive if he even tries to enter.”

            “What about me getting burned alive?”

            They turned to see the King standing in the doorway. His eyes were wide as he listened to their conversation. “What are you planning to do that might get me _burned alive?!_ ”

            “Oh, you know, the usual. We’re just trying to figure out a plan to get into Heaven and break an archangel out of prison. No biggie,” Dean explained half-heartedly. His voice dripped with sarcasm; he clearly didn’t think that this was going to work, or was even possible.

            “Heaven? So you found our angel dropout?” Crowley inquired. Sam winced at the nickname, but nodded.

            “Lucifer and Michael locked him up in Heaven’s dungeon and are keeping him there,” the toddler explained. “We have to break him out.”

            “No shit, Sherlock,” Crowley grumbled in response. “So you’re planning to just . . . infiltrate Heaven with a _demon_ in your company?”  
 

           “Yep,” Dean replied with a cheeky grin. “That’s _exactly_ what we plan to do.”

            Crowley gave the human an exasperated look. The demon was beginning to seriously question his life choices. _The things I do for these flippin’ Winchesters!_ “Goody,” he grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. Why did he have a feeling that this was not going to end well?

 

**********

 

            Lucifer escorted Gabriel to a place the younger angel didn’t recognize. He thought that he’d been everywhere in Heaven, but apparently he hadn’t. That or he simply didn’t remember being here. Then again, his memory was almost always perfect down to every last detail. He _should_ remember this place if he’d been there. But he didn’t. “Where are we?” he couldn’t keep himself from asking.

            “Honestly, I’m not sure,” Lucifer replied. Gabriel didn’t miss the wariness in his voice. “Michael just kind of . . . stumbled across it a little while ago.”

            “Was it here before?” Gabriel continued to inquire.

            “I don’t think so – I think it’s new.”

            “Did Dad build it?”

            “Maybe.”

            “Why doesn’t he just go to his old throne?”

            “Dunno . . . Maybe he doesn’t want the rest of our siblings to know that he’s back, yet . . .” 

            Lucifer offered no further information – in fact, it seemed that he sealed his lips after their brief conversation. In a way, Gabriel was grateful for it. He wanted to get lost in his own thoughts for a while. He still couldn’t comprehend they idea that his Father was _back_. It had been years . . . centuries . . . millenniums. So many questions were swirling through Gabriel’s head. Why did his Father leave? Why did He go? Why did He not tell them? Where had He been all this time? Had He been watching them? Had His absence been another test? Had Gabriel passed or failed? Had Gabriel failed him in some way? Had _all_ of his siblings failed Him? Did He leave because he was tired of them, or disappointed?

            Gabriel let out a small sigh. Somehow, he had a feeling that none of his questions were going to be answered.

            They walked down this bare, narrow hallway. Lucifer had his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder as if he were preparing for his little brother to make a break for it. Gabriel didn’t know how long they walked, but eventually a large, magnificent wooden door came into sight. While Gabriel was prepared to keep going straight inside, it was Lucifer that faltered. He stopped in his tracks, jerking his brother to a halt consequently. Gabriel looked up at him at first in confusion, and then in sympathy. You could say what you wanted about Lucifer, but no matter what happened, he would always be Gabriel’s big brother. “It’ll be okay,” Gabriel whispered in encouragement. “I mean . . . you’ve already seen him, right?”

            Lucifer gulped and shook his head. “Michael has . . . he didn’t want to see me right away.”

            Gabriel nodded weakly. What was he supposed to say to that? “I think we have a lot of things to talk about,” he murmured. “With Dad, I mean.”

            His brother nodded. “Yeah . . . I’d say so.”

            “Well . . . There’s no use in trying to avoid the inevitable,” Gabriel offered. Without waiting for Lucifer’s response, he strode up to the door with purpose. He felt his brother’s presence behind him as he opened the door.

            Inside, Michael stood in front of a large, onyx desk that looked like in belonged in the office of a company’s CEO. He turned to see Lucifer and Gabriel enter, and then stepped aside. There, sitting behind the desk in a large, lush leather chair was a rather small, skinny man. He had dark, almost reddish-colored hair and a scruffy beard. A pair of dark, emerald-green eyes stared at Lucifer and Gabriel intently. He had his elbows resting on the desk and his hands with the palms pressed together. “Lucifer . . . Gabriel,” he greeted.

            All the words Gabriel had wanted to say ran dry in his mouth. It was most definitely his Father, but it was the form his Father had taken that surprised him. He had seen him before in Sam’s memories – his Father was Chuck Shurley, the prophet. He couldn’t believe it; his Father had been on Earth, he’d written Sam and Dean’s tales personally. He’d spoken to them. Gabriel’s mouth fell open as he stared at his Father with wide eyes.

            Gabriel couldn’t take his eyes off his Father to see Lucifer’s reaction, but the disbelief in his brother’s voice was more than enough. Gabriel could hear the pain and the emotion in his voice. “Dad . . . ?”

            Chuck cracked a small smile. “Hello, my son.” He looked between Lucifer and Gabriel. “It’s . . . it’s been a very long time. We have a lot to discuss.”


End file.
